Angelus Mortis
by TrueStarGoddess
Summary: "Elizabeth, this is D," Jack looked between Elizabeth and the young woman who had straightened in her chair, schooling her features into neutrality, "I'll put this bluntly. She was ordered to kill you and me before the Daedalus leaves tomorrow afternoon." -all chapters updated as of 10/31/14-
1. Q & A

O'Neill woke slowly, a dull throbbing pain behind his eyes. He tried to lift a hand to rub his face, only to feel a strong binding holding his wrists together in front of him. He blinked his heavy eyelids sluggishly, the soft light from the bedside lamp revealing a thin black cord wound tightly around the skin of his wrists. He glanced further down his body and saw the same cord at his ankles over the pajama pants he had thankfully remembered to put on before bed. He looked immediately to his right and saw Carter next to him in their bed, tied in much the same way, black cord around her wrists and ankles, still unconscious.

"You're finally awake," a raspy, feminine voice came from the darkened doorway of the room.

"You have _got_ to be kidding me," O'Neill swore under his breath, "It's not even my house this time."

"Lt. Colonel Carter is fine," the voice spoke again, "She should wake up in about an hour or so. I thought you and I could have a short conversation in private."

"I had to be tied up for this conversation?" O'Neill scooted himself up awkwardly, leaning back against the headboard.

"And mildly sedated, yes," the voice agreed, "But that should be mostly counteracted by the stimulants I gave you a minute ago to wake you up. You might be experiencing a mild headache. I haven't quite perfected the dosage on the new cocktail of drugs I used."

"Always glad to be a guinea pig," O'Neill rolled his eyes, "Who are you and what do you want?"

"I'm no one important," the voice answered evenly, "As for what I want...I want some answers, General O'Neill."

"Well, you woke up the wrong person then," O'Neill scoffed, "Carter's the one who knows everything about everything."

"Unfortunately for you," the voice countered, "That is not the case this time."

"'Unfortunately'?" O'Neill asked calmly, "I thought we were just having a friendly conversation. You make it sound like I'm about to get tortured or something equally ridiculous."

"I'm not here to torture you, General. I'm here to kill you."

The figure belonging to the smoky voice finally emerged from the dark entrance of the room. O'Neill was mildly surprised to see a young woman, no more than five and a half foot tall. She was dressed in a simple, black cotton shirt, her thumbs stuck through holes in the sleeves that partially covered her palms, with a slim digital watch over the fabric around her right wrist. She wore tight black leggings and a pair of perfectly laced black combat boots, soft soles soundless on the carpet. The fitted clothing emphasized the distinctly muscled curves of her body. The only visible weapons she wore were contained in a black shoulder holster; three small black knives, the handles with small holes in the metal hanging down over the lower part of her right ribs. She had lightly tanned skin and her dark red hair, an almost unnatural shade of burgundy, was pulled back in a severe French braid, the end rolled and pinned up to the nape of her neck. Her almost perfectly symmetrical face had delicate features; a straight, pert nose, lower lip slightly fuller than the upper, and wide eyes framed with long, full lashes.

O'Neill studied the young woman less than a second before he decided the overall effect was something like an ethereal, yet extremely lethal, pixie.

"Aren't you a little short for a stormtrooper?" O'Neill wondered.

She didn't respond but kept moving closer, pulling one of the kitchen chairs behind her, stopping just outside arm's reach of the bed. She sat down in the chair gracefully, leaning back and crossing one leg smoothly over the other. She looked over O'Neill, gaze stopping momentarily on both sets of his bindings, and when her gaze finally met his, the light from the bedside lamp made the pale gray shade of her irises clear.

"Fine, I get it. No Star Wars references. Look, if you're going to kill me, can you just get it over with?" O'Neill said wearily, "It's the middle of the night and I'm tired."

"I'll kill you eventually, General," the woman crossed her hands neatly across the top of her knees, "I just have a few questions first."

"Do you normally question the people you kill?" O'Neill asked dryly.

"Rarely," a small scowl creased the woman's forehead, "Normally, no one knows I was ever there."

"Lucky me, I guess," O'Neill sighed.

"I have a small issue with the latest orders I've been given, General O'Neill," the woman tilted her head to the right, "I'm hoping you can clarify a few things for me."

"Why don't you ask whoever gave you the orders?" O'Neill questioned, "I'm sure they know more than me about…whatever it is."

"If the people I work for find out I've been questioning my orders, even in the slightest," the woman said evenly, "They'll kill me without hesitation."

"Sounds like you need a new boss," O'Neill snorted, "Or a new line of work."

"I don't believe either of those are options for me," the woman looked down to her lap as she responded quietly, tapping the fingers of her left hand on her leg, "I can either continue to follow my orders until I'm killed trying to complete a mission or refuse to follow them and spend the rest of my extremely short life constantly on the run, always looking over my shoulder, until the inevitable day that I'm caught and executed."

The woman looked back up at O'Neill and he caught the flash of fear in her eyes before it was quickly replaced with an expression of bland indifference.

"I'm going to ask you a few questions, General," the woman continued smoothly, "This will go much quicker for both of us if you answer honestly and completely the first time."

"I make no promises," O'Neill gestured awkwardly toward his temple with his bound arms, "My memory's not what it used to be."

"The last set of instructions I received from my employer was a set of termination orders for you and Dr. Elizabeth Weir," the woman explained, "Someone wants the two of you gone, in the next three days. Someone with a great deal of power, a lot of spare cash, and extensive connections, since I was given the order."

"Lots of people want me dead," O'Neill replied easily, "What else is new?"

"They could have sent almost anyone to kill you, General O'Neill," the woman said seriously, "They could've given any idiot off the street a gun, hired one of the many freelancers available to them, even used a lower caliber asset. Instead, they sent me. While you have extensive military training, I find it…_curious_ that they would assign me this task."

"Job too easy for you?" O'Neill asked sarcastically.

"Yes, as a matter of fact, it is," the woman answered, raising a hand to stop the objection O'Neill had been forming, "Don't misunderstand, it is not a commentary on your abilities. The simple truth is; I am normally only given assignments that no one else can complete. I am the best asset currently employed by the US government. I see no valid reason for me being assigned this mission."

"A little full of ourselves, are we?" O'Neill raised an eyebrow at the young woman.

"It's a simple statement of fact," the woman corrected as she laid her hand back in her lap, "Setting aside the fact that I should never have been assigned this task, I've come across some concerns during my research of the targets."

"Let me guess," O'Neill smirked, "You found out that I'm a pretty amazing guy and you're having second thoughts about killing me."

"Oh no, General," the woman smiled dangerously, "I understand completely why they want you dead. I fully intend to kill you once our conversation is done."

"Hey," O'Neill protested, "I think I might be offended."

"What I don't understand is why Dr. Weir's execution was ordered," the woman ignored his outburst, "From what I've seen, she's done exemplary work in every field she's chosen, including her tenure as head of the SGC and as the leader of the Atlantis expedition."

"The what?" O'Neill asked curiously.

"General O'Neill," the woman leveled a flat stare at him, "Please don't insult either of us by pretending you don't know what I'm talking about. I know all about the Stargate program that has been run out of Cheyenne Mountain for the last eight years; I have ever since that moron Kinsey found out about it. Even if I hadn't already known about it, I research any and all assignments given to me quite thoroughly."

"If you have problems with Weir," O'Neill said cautiously, "Why are you talking to me? Why not have this conversation with her?"

"I don't believe that Dr. Weir would be able to provide the answers I need in the time I have allotted," the woman answered honestly, "You accepted the fact that people in your own government wanted you dead without hesitation and moved past it quickly. If I tried to have this conversation with the good doctor, it would take quite a bit more time than I have available."

"If that's the case," O'Neill spoke curiously, "and you know what Dr. Weir has been doing the last year, I'm sure you can guess why someone would want her dead."

"I would assume it's because she is a formidable woman," the woman replied carefully, half a smile twitching onto her face, "and an expert at political maneuvering. She also seems to have the complete support of the President and several international allies. I believe whoever wants her out of the way wants to put someone weaker-willed in charge of the Atlantis expedition in order to gain control of the advanced technology there. The quickest, most efficient way to do that is to arrange an unfortunate accident for Dr. Weir. It would otherwise take years of subtle shifts in power to maneuver someone else in her place."

"You admire her," O'Neill said thoughtfully, studying the young woman's face, "Respect her, even. You don't want to kill her."

"That's not relev-" a confused expression came over the woman's face, "I didn't say that."

"Why did you really come here?" O'Neill narrowed his eyes at her.

"I told you," the woman started tapping her fingers on her knee again, "I have questions that require answers."

"Please don't insult either of us by pretending that's the only reason," O'Neill repeated her earlier words, "It sounds like you already have all the information you need on both Dr. Weir and myself. You obviously could've killed me in my sleep. Instead, you woke me up to talk. Why?"

The woman held his stare for a moment, then dropped her eyes into her lap again, staring at her open palms.

"I'm tired of washing my hands, General O'Neill," she whispered quietly, "They don't come clean anymore."

"You got a name, kid?" O'Neill inquired softly.

"Yeah, lots of them," the woman laughed bitterly, "Choose one."

"How about the real one?" O'Neill asked carefully.

"No one has called me by my real name in over twenty years," the woman sighed, keeping her eyes in her lap, "I don't remember what it was."

"Kid, you're making this kinda difficult," O'Neill rolled his eyes.

"D," the woman finally looked back up at him, speaking haltingly, "My initial…I guess you can call me D."

"All right, D," O'Neill nodded once, "You can call me Jack. Can I tell you what I think?"

"I almost positive you're going to tell me whether I agree or not, Jack," D said dryly, "I'm not sure why you bothered to ask."

"It's like you know me," Jack grinned, then his expression turned serious, "I think you came here, wanted to have this lovely conversation with me, because you knew I would be able to talk you out of doing something you don't really want to do in the first place."

"I've done lots of things I didn't want to do," D replied with a jerky shrug, "That doesn't change anything."

"And because you knew I could offer you a way out," Jack finished carefully.

"There is nowhere on Earth my employers cannot find me," D said evenly, "Nowhere in this galaxy, if they so choose."

"But you forget, young padawan," Jack smiled, "I have the power to send you to a galaxy far, far away."

"If I don't kill the both of you," D said hesitantly, "they'll simply find someone else to do it. The people I work for are…not nice people. They are quite persistent. Also, I am a rather _unique_ asset for them. I doubt they will give up so easily if I disappear."

"I'm a big boy," Jack insisted, "I can take care of myself."

"While that _might_ be true on a good day," D rolled her eyes, "Dr. Weir can't necessarily do the same."

"Wow," Jack cocked his head to the side, "I didn't realize assassins were so…snarky."

"I doubt you've met that many assassins," D gave him a flat stare, "And you're one to talk, Mr. Sass-the-person-here-to-kill-me."

"I have a proposal for you, D," Jack grinned, "One that I think will benefit us both."

"All right," D nodded briefly, "I'm listening."

"I'll send you to Atlantis," Jack studied D carefully, "as Dr. Weir's bodyguard. That way you don't have to worry about your _employers_ whacking you because they're pissed and Elizabeth has someone I can trust watching her back."

"You know nothing about me, sir," D said uncertainly, "I'm not what you think I am. How do you know you can trust me?"

"I'm usually a pretty good judge of character," Jack said easily.

"I'm not…" D frowned and paused, her eyes narrowing as she continued, "What's the price?"

"Price for what?" Jack wondered.

"The price for helping me," D clarified, "What do you want from me in return?"

"The truth," Jack answered sincerely, "all of it."

"That's it?" D asked warily.

"And for you to trust me," Jack agreed with a one shouldered shrug, "But that will come with time."

"I'm not…I don't…" D trailed off and looked past Jack to Carter, "Your wife is awake."

"Jack?" Carter blinked open her eyes. She pulled on her bonds and sat up suddenly.

"I'm here, Sam," Jack assured her.

"Why are we tied up?" Sam frowned at him, then looked over to the red-haired woman sitting next to her bed, "Who are you?"

"Sam, this is D," Jack gestured with his bound hands, "D, this is Sam."

"Hello," Sam said politely, then looked back to Jack, "What's going on here?"

"Interesting," D tilted her head to the side, "I thought I took into account your unique physiology when I was calculating your dosage. It seems your body processed the drugs faster than I had anticipated. I'll have to keep that in mind in the future."

"Sir?" Carter looked at D out of the corner of her eye.

"Do we have a deal, D?" Jack held D's gaze.

"Truth and trust, Jack?" D said quietly.

Jack nodded solemnly.

"Acceptable," D agreed finally.

"Great," Jack grinned, "Now, I enjoy a little light bondage as much as the next guy, but maybe you could untie us so we can talk details?"

D used her left hand to pull one of the knives silently from the holster at her ribs, "As long as you promise your wife isn't going to try to kill me."

"Oh, _Sam_ you're worried about," Jack rolled his eyes as D sliced through the cords at his ankles, "Not me."

"Yes, sir," D looked between Jack and Sam as she cut the bonds on Jack's wrists, "You aren't nearly as dangerous as Colonel Carter."

"Hey!" Jack protested loudly as D flipped her knife around, holding it by the blade. After a short moment of hesitation - D looking between the knife in her hand and Jack's calm brown eyes - she handed it to Jack hilt first and he nodded his approval.

"Don't be offended, Jack," D sat back in the chair as Jack cut Sam loose, "I can easily kick both your asses. It's just, well, she might have some weird technological thing up her sleeve I don't know about. She's entirely too good for you, you know. I can't believe you convinced her to marry you."

"This is going to be an interesting story, isn't it?" Sam wondered as she rubbed her hands over her wrists.

"Yeah, sure, you betcha," Jack handed the knife back to D.


	2. Agreement

"Elizabeth," Carson called after her in the long, gray hallway of the SGC, "You have a minute?"

"For you, Carson, I've got two," Elizabeth smiled as she slowed, waiting for him to catch up with her, "I was just on my way to my temporary office to meet with General O'Neill."

"Oh really?" Carson said curiously, "That's what I was going to ask you about. It seems I've been called to the same meeting. I don't suppose you know what it's about?"

"Sorry, no," Elizabeth shook her head, "Only that the General said it was urgent. He delayed his flight to Washington this morning."

The two of them rounded the corner to hear muffled voices coming from the office at the end of the hallway. Elizabeth thought she recognized one of the voices as Jack's, but the second female voice was unfamiliar.

"Should we knock?" Carson stopped in front of the door.

"It's still my office," Elizabeth said as she turned the handle, "And we're expected."

"It's _my_ life, Jack," the hoarse feminine voice shouted as Elizabeth pushed open the door, "You've no idea how-"

"I don't care," Jack interrupted, yelling at the young woman from across the desk, "Sit down and be quiet or I swear to God - _I will shoot you_. Repeatedly."

"You can not expect-" the red-haired woman started to protest.

Jack held up a hand and she stopped speaking immediately. She flopped down in the nearest chair, huffing petulantly as she crossed her arms across her chest. She glared at Jack and mumbled something decidedly unfriendly under her breath in a foreign language Elizabeth didn't recognize.

"Don't think I don't know you're calling me names," Jack pointed an angry finger at her, "I may not speak whatever that is, but I know when I'm being cussed at."

The woman didn't say anything further, instead sinking deeper into the chair with a quiet growl.

Jack swiped a hand down his face as he sat down heavily in the chair behind the desk, "If I had known you were going to be such a pain-in-the-ass about everything, I would never have agreed to this."

"General O'Neill," Elizabeth greeted him politely, looking the room's two occupants over. Jack wore the plain green BDUs he preferred, black stars pinned to the collar, SGC and American flag patches in place. The annoyed woman wore a similar set of worn, green BDUs that looked at least two sizes too big for her small frame, but the velcro on her shoulders were clear of any identifying patches. Her long, dark burgundy red hair was in a messy, low ponytail and Elizabeth caught a flash of pale gray irises when the young woman glanced towards Elizabeth and Carson before quickly returning her annoyed gaze to Jack.

"Good morning, Dr. Weir, Dr. Beckett," Jack nodded to both of them, gesturing towards the two empty chairs, "Please shut the door behind you and have a seat."

"What is this about, Jack?" Elizabeth sat down as Carson shut the door before taking the last empty chair for himself.

Jack pulled a smooth quartz-looking crystal from his front uniform pocket. He set it down gently on the desk and it began to glow faint white when he tapped the top of it twice in quick succession.

"Asgard surveillance-jamming device. A little present from Thor last time we talked," Jack explained at Elizabeth's curious look, "The conversation we're about to have is so far off the record it's in another galaxy. Is that understood?"

"Of course, General," Elizabeth nodded shortly.

"Yes, sir," Carson agreed quickly.

"Elizabeth, this is D," Jack looked between Elizabeth and the young woman who had straightened in her chair, schooling her features into neutrality, "In the interest of saving time, I'll be blunt. D was ordered to kill you and me before the _Daedalus_ leaves tomorrow afternoon."

"She was," Elizabeth said flatly, turning to look at D.

"I'm sorry, what?" Carson exclaimed, shifting nervously in his chair, "Why is she sitting in Elizabeth's office then? Why isn't she restrained?"

"Carson," Elizabeth cautioned him softly as she turned back to Jack, "I assume, General, that since we're having this chat in my office instead of a holding cell, you've convinced her not to do so?"

"We've managed to come to a sort of agreement, yes," Jack said wryly.

"I didn't actually agree to the ridiculousness you've been spouting this morning," D waved a hand at him, leaning forward as she spoke, "I only agreed to-"

"_Repeatedly_," Jack drew the word out slowly and D quieted once more, settling back in the chair.

"What sort of agreement did you come up with exactly, General?" Elizabeth asked neutrally.

"I hired her as your personal assistant," Jack smiled widely, "She'll be accompanying you when you leave tomorrow."

"My personal assistant," Elizabeth scoffed, looking between Jack and D, "No offense, Jack, but I'm not sure I need that kind of assistance."

"Actually, Dr. Weir," D finally turned to meet Elizabeth's stare, "you do. The people who want you dead will not simply give up if I disappear. They will send others and it's only a matter of time before they figure out how to get to Atlantis. I am uniquely qualified to help you. Not only do I have the physical skills to protect you from any of my competitors and the many unforeseen dangers of the Pegasus galaxy, I also have a doctorate in linguistics, currently fluent in forty languages, including a firm grasp of both Ancient and Goa'uld, and a doctorate in political science, with an emphasis on international relations."

"I don't need a bodyguard," Elizabeth insisted, "The military contingent in the City is perfectly capable of handling any situations that may arise."

"I'm not doubting their abilities," D replied in a carefully modulated tone, "But the military's job is not to protect you specifically. It's to protect Atlantis at all costs. That would not be the case with me."

"While that may be-" Elizabeth started.

"That's not the only consideration," Jack interrupted, "By not following her orders and killing us, D has painted a considerable target on her back. She's not safe in the Milky Way anymore."

"I believe the people I've come to work for recently might be associated with the Trust," D explained, her voice leaking nervousness through, "The orders I've been receiving lately have been…different. There was no reason to send someone like me after you and Jack."

"Someone like you?" Elizabeth asked carefully.

"Someone has to do the dirty work, Dr. Weir," D answered smoothly, straightening to attention in her chair, "And up until the last couple years, I was okay with that person being me. I was serving my country in the best way I could, in a way few other people were willing. Lately, however, the things I've been ordered to do have not been in the best interests of this country. They've been in the best interests of a small, select group of people. I am not okay with being used in that manner."

"So you see," Jack leaned back in his chair, "you two need each other. D needs a new job and you need someone to watch out for you."

"Why me?" Elizabeth turned in her chair to face D fully, "If this has been going on for a while, as you say, why suddenly refuse to follow your orders?"

"Do you know any Shakespeare, Dr. Weir?" D tilted her head to the side.

"Some, yes," Elizabeth agreed with a short nod.

"'Will all great Neptune's ocean wash this blood clean from my hand? No, this my hand will rather the multitudinous seas incarnadine, making the green one red'," D quoted softly, holding Elizabeth's gaze steadily.

"Macbeth," Elizabeth replied calmly.

"I'm tired," D sighed wearily, "and my water heater's not big enough anymore. During my research of you, I discovered that you have a great capacity for compassion. You believe the best in people, even when there's overwhelming evidence to the contrary. I'm hoping that by attempting to keep someone like you safe, I can redeem myself in some small way."

"There's a reason we're in your office instead of a jail cell, Elizabeth," Jack said quietly, "I wouldn't be helping her if I didn't think she was worth it."

"Yes, well," Elizabeth smiled at Jack wryly, "We all know you have a soft spot for strays. You do know Atlantis is not a rehabilitation center for all Jack O'Neill's hard luck cases, right?"

"I am not a stray puppy," D scowled at Elizabeth, "and as I pointed out, I'm more than qualified to contribute to the expedition, even without protecting you. I have two doctorates and an IQ of just under two hundred. I was in the middle of getting my third doctorate in cryptography, but unfortunately that will have to be abandoned now. Even so, I'm sure-"

"I think you'll fit right in," Elizabeth interrupted with a laugh.

"Oh, aye, she'll do a lovely job," Carson smiled warmly, "Although, you may want to keep her away from Dr. McKay for as long as possible."

"Great, now that's settled," Jack reached into his desk drawer and pulled out two thick tablets, leaning across the desk to hand them to Elizabeth and Carson, "We can get down to brass tacks."

"I still don't think this is a good idea, Jack," D protested with a slight frown.

"And I still don't care," Jack rolled his eyes, "We're doing this my way or not at all."

"Anyone ever tell you that you're an asshole?" D asked sweetly.

"Yeah, sure," Jack smiled broadly, "Lots of times. Anyone ever tell you that you're an annoying little shit?"

"Nope," D shook her head, "You're the first."

"I find that incredibly difficult to believe," Jack snorted and turned back to Elizabeth and Carson, "Those tablets contain copies of the majority of D's file, what she's been able to put together over the last decade. You two are the only people on Atlantis that will have access to this information. No one else needs to know who D is and what she's really doing on Atlantis. As far as the rest of the expedition is concerned, Dr. Vaughn is nothing more than Dr. Weir's new executive assistant."

"You expect me to keep this a secret from the rest of my staff?" Elizabeth raised an imperious eyebrow at Jack.

"For her safety, and for yours, yes, I do," Jack replied easily, "As it turns out, the United States government was conducting some interesting and highly unethical experiments in early eighties. D is the result of a classified CIA project codenamed 'Evolution'. The details of the project are in the beginning of her file. Take a quick look and you'll understand."

There were a couple minutes of silence as both Elizabeth and Carson looked through the file. While Elizabeth's expression stayed carefully neutral, an angry frown started forming on Carson's face, growing deeper as he continued reading.

"Bloody hell," Carson finally exclaimed, "Who would do something like this to children? Savages."

"The experiment was never meant for children, Dr. Beckett," D said calmly, "I was only given the injections out of misguided attempt at showing love. Dr. James had no way of knowing what the consequences would be when his success was found out and by the time he realized, it was already too late."

"Are there others like you?" Carson looked up from the tablet to D.

"No," D shook her head sadly, "None of the other test subjects, adults or children, were able to endure the experiment. I am their only success."

"That's why they'll always come after you," Elizabeth said thoughtfully, "Even if you stop following orders, they'd need your body, your DNA, if they wanted to recreate their success with the technological and medical advancements since then."

"That's part of the reason I decided to tell both you and Dr. Beckett the complete truth about D," Jack agreed, then turned to quirk an eyebrow at D, "Although she doesn't seem to think so, D needs someone looking out for her in Atlantis."

"Jack, I don't need-" D started.

"Besides," Jack cut her off, "the first physical you performed on Dr. Vaughn would reveal her unique genetics. Telling you now saves time."

"What's the other reason?" Carson questioned.

Jack grinned, "I want you to help fake her death."

"You want me to do _what_?" Carson's jaw dropped.

"He wants you to extract some of my DNA," D explained with a short glare at Jack, "and implant it in a corpse that I'll be acquiring in about six hours. A US intelligence asset, the sole success of Evolution, is about to perish in a fiery car crash in Colorado Springs, escaping from the authorities General O'Neill called when he discovered her lurking near his current residence."

"How does one go about 'acquiring' a corpse, Dr. Vaughn?" Elizabeth asked evenly.

"I checked the local morgues," D responded carefully, "There is an unclaimed Jane Doe in Denver that is an approximate physical match. No one will miss the body."

"I'm not sure I'm comfortable using some poor dead woman that way," Carson frowned.

"She is scheduled to be shipped to a crematorium, Dr. Beckett," D said gently, "She has no family, no one to claim her. I wouldn't normally suggest something like this, but my employers know about the Stargate program. If I simply disappear, they'll assume I convinced Jack to send me through the Stargate to another planet. This way, I will have a very small head start."

"Isn't it dangerous to give them any of your DNA?" Elizabeth questioned.

"Yes, but I believe with Dr. Beckett's help," D nodded at him, "we can leave just enough DNA evidence for them to be able to identify the body as mine, but not enough for them to be able to use. The temperature of the fire will also help mitigate some of the danger."

"It's a risk," Jack agreed, "but I think it's one we're going to have to take to make this work."

"Elizabeth?" Carson looked to her curiously.

"If I agree to all this," Elizabeth said cautiously, studying D as she sat perfectly still in her chair, "especially keeping your identity a secret from people I trust, I expect honesty from you at all times."

"What is it with secret organizations and truth?" D shook her head, "Jack has already made that part of my deal with him. I have no problem extending that to you as well, ma'am. If at any point you feel that I have become a threat to you or to Atlantis, I will allow myself to be put in a holding cell until such time as I can be dealt with in a manner of General O'Neill's choosing."

"I can agree to that," Elizabeth nodded.

"I have an additional requirement as well," D said calmly, "You don't go anywhere without me. If a situation arises where you have to go off-world, I go with you. When it comes to your personal security, you have to listen to me. You have to let me protect you, without complaint."

"I can't promise I won't complain," Elizabeth laughed, "But I believe we have a deal, Dr. Vaughn."

"Please, call me D," D smiled, "I think we're going to get along just fine, ma'am."


	3. No One

"If there's nothing else for tonight, ma'am," D checked the time on her large digital watch, "I think I'm going to go talk to Hermiod for a little while before I sleep."

"Hermiod actually talks to you?" Elizabeth asked curiously, setting her coffee cup down.

"He's teaching me how to speak a little bit of the Asgard language," D nodded as she stood, "It turns out, he's got a wicked sense of humor and very little patience for most humans."

"Sounds like someone else I know," Elizabeth smiled.

"I'm not sure I know what you're talking about, ma'am," D deadpanned.

"I'm sure you don't," Elizabeth laughed, "Good night, D. I'll see you in the morning."

"I'll keep my radio on if you need anything," D said over her shoulder as she left, "Don't stay up too late, Dr. Weir. And lay off the coffee, that's your third cup in the last two hours."

"Thank you, Dr. Vaughn," Elizabeth called after her, rolling her eyes since no one else was in the room to see her.

Elizabeth sat in the quiet mess hall, slowly sipping on her warm cup of coffee and enjoying the brilliant blue streaks of hyperspace out the window. She let her mind wander, reflecting on all the changes in her life over the last couple months. She was drawn out of her reverie, long after her coffee cooled, by footsteps coming down the hall. She turned to see John coming into the room, heading straight for the carafe of coffee behind her.

"Hey, what are you doing up so late?" Elizabeth asked.

"Couldn't sleep," John poured himself a cup of coffee, "Must be the burden of command," John smirked as he came over to sit across from Elizabeth at the table, "You know, ever since I was promoted to Lieutenant Colonel?"

Elizabeth barely contained her smile as she sat forward, "All right, John, it's been almost a month. When are you going to stop trying to find a way to bring that up in every single conversation?"

"You've got to understand," John replied easily, "There's a lot of people in the Air Force who never thought I'd make it past Captain."

"Well, obviously, the people whose opinions matter the most thought otherwise," Elizabeth leaned back in her chair again, not bothering to hold the smile back this time.

"What about you?" John wondered, "What are you still doing up?"

"Mm," Elizabeth hummed thoughtfully, "I think I got used to falling asleep to the sound of the ocean."

"Well, McKay says we're already at the edge of the Pegasus galaxy. You'll be fine once we get back to Atlantis. You know, it's funny. I spent the past year wondering if I'd ever see Earth again, and as soon as I got there…" John trailed off with a small shake of his head.

"I know how you feel. God, it was extremely convenient to be able to step through the gate and be at Stargate Command in an instant, and now this…" Elizabeth glanced around the small room, "It feels extremely inconvenient having to spend 18 days cooped up on this ship to get back."

"Until we find another ZPM to power the Earth gate," John lifted his coffee cup, "that's just the way it's going to have to be."

One of the _Daedalus_ crew members, dressed in the standard green flight suit, came running into the room, "Dr. Weir, Colonel Sheppard, there's been an accident."

Elizabeth and John stood immediately, following the crew member out of the room. Elizabeth tapped her radio as they walked out the doorway, "Dr. Vaughn, this is Dr. Weir."

"_I'm already on my way, ma'am_," was D's quick, calm response, "_I'll meet you there_."

Elizabeth followed the crewman and John through the ship, their pace quick, and when they arrived at the small crowded room, D was already standing just outside the doorway, leaning casually back against the wall. She seemed relaxed, but Elizabeth realized she was standing in the one position where she could see both inside the room and down every direction in the hallway.

"That's Dr. Monroe," Elizabeth exclaimed as she came into the room behind John, "What happened?"

"I don't know," Carson looked up from the body, moving his hand away from the man's neck, "but he's dead."

Elizabeth crossed her arms across her chest and moved back out of the way as Carson motioned two of the waiting corpsmen into the room. The crewman that had informed Elizabeth and John of the accident turned to leave quickly. Rodney came walking quickly down the hallway and taking one look at the body, stepped around the people in the room to sit at the computer terminal, already typing away.

By the time the Carson and the corpsmen had a body bag laid out, moving Dr. Monroe's body with extra care and zipping him up, the crewman had returned with Colonel Caldwell.

"How did he die?" Caldwell asked neutrally.

"I'm not a hundred percent certain," Carson replied as the corpsmen wheeled Dr. Monroe's body out of the small room on the gurney, "But there are burn marks on his fingertips."

"Obviously there was a short," John gestured to the small control panel on the wall, "Panels are open, circuits are charred."

"There's not enough juice in those circuits to kill anyone," Caldwell moved to the center of the room, "Doctor?"

"I'll know more once I've had a chance to examine the body more thoroughly," Carson answered calmly. He made his way out of the room, following the path of Dr. Monroe's body down the hall.

"Do you know what was he was working on?" Elizabeth looked over to Rodney.

"Computer diagnostics, strictly routine. I've got security camera footage," Rodney motioned to the screen, pulling up the video. Caldwell, John, and Elizabeth moved forward, watching the soundless segment as Dr. Monroe worked at the terminal, until the footage was cut off abruptly by static.

"What happened there?" Elizabeth questioned.

"I don't know," Rodney tapped several more keys, "It's a camera malfunction."

"Right before he was killed? Interesting coincidence," John said evenly.

"Actually, I think it makes sense," Rodney turned to face them, "Look, Colonel Caldwell was right. There's not enough juice in those circuits to kill someone, at least not normally."

"What are you thinking?" Elizabeth wondered.

"It's possible there was some sort of isolated power surge in this section. That would explain the lost camera, the malfunctioning door," Rodney answered.

"So," Caldwell glanced towards the control panel, "when the door controls didn't respond, he took out the panel to bypass the circuits and received a fatal jolt?"

"Well, like I said, it's possible. Look, I recommend we drop out of hyperspace, run a full diagnostic on the power distribution systems," Rodney said seriously.

"No," Caldwell replied immediately, "we drop out now, we risk being detected."

"That's true," Rodney started, "I just think that if we-"

"We'll be back in Atlantis in less than two days," Caldwell interrupted, "You can do your diagnostic then."

"Colonel, are you sure that's wise?" Elizabeth tried to keep the frustration from her voice.

"With all due respect, Doctor, you got back to Earth through the Stargate," Caldwell responded shortly, "This is my third trip on the _Daedalus_ between galaxies."

"I understand that, but this ship is relatively new," Elizabeth spoke calmly, "There might be some problems-"

"Doctor," Caldwell interjected, "A word, please."

Elizabeth exchanged a quick glance with John, then left the room, Caldwell directly behind her. D followed them at a distance, taking care to stay just far enough away to give them an illusion of privacy as they walked down the busy hallway.

"I know the chain of command can get a little fuzzy on Atlantis, but that's not going to happen here," Caldwell turned to Elizabeth as he stopped, "You got a problem with my orders, you take it to me in private. Otherwise, keep your opinions to yourself."

"Are you sure that's what this is all about?" Elizabeth asked evenly.

"I've got a job to do, Doctor," Caldwell insisted.

"But not the one you wanted," Elizabeth said carefully.

Caldwell opened his mouth to say something, then apparently thought the better of it and sighed before turning away. D stepped forward silently, coming up behind Elizabeth.

"Permission to speak freely, ma'am?" D asked evenly.

"Of course," Elizabeth turned to face her.

"Caldwell makes me twitchy, ma'am," D said quietly.

"Twitchy?" Elizabeth asked curiously.

"He's overly ambitious, arrogant, and not in a typical military way. He's almost completely unconcerned that someone just died aboard his ship, beyond the inconvenience it caused," D kept her voice soft, "He also doesn't care for the Atlantis senior staff much, yourself included."

"He was passed over for Military Commander of the City," Elizabeth explained dryly, "and I had a great deal to do with that."

"I see," D inclined her head, barely hiding the small smile on her face, "Perhaps I should start studying the _Daedalus_' personnel files as well."

"You can start in the morning," Elizabeth said easily, "If you really think it's necessary."

"Good night again, ma'am," D tapped Elizabeth on the outside of her wrist before she turned to leave, "Try to get some sleep."

_*AM*AM*AM*AM*AM*AM*AM*_

"I already told you, I'm fine," Rodney lowered the oxygen mask from his face.

"He's right," Carson lifted Rodney's hand with the mask back to his face, "It appears he didn't inhale enough toxins to cause any permanent damage, although a few more seconds of exposure and it would have been quite a different story."

"Thank you, Doctor," Caldwell nodded in dismissal.

Carson nodded, motioning to the corpsmen standing nearby and leaving. As soon as Carson turned his back, Rodney dropped the mask again.

Caldwell spoke evenly once Carson and the corpsmen were gone, "I assume this time we can definitely rule out random malfunctions."

"Lindstrom found something," Rodney responded, "He was trying to tell me what it was when the leak happened."

"What were you looking for?" Elizabeth asked calmly.

"We were trying to trace the source of the power spike that killed Dr. Monroe," Rodney answered easily.

"Who else knew what you were doing?" Caldwell questioned.

"A lot of people knew we were running diagnostics, but no one knew we were in that particular room at that exact moment," Rodney gestured towards the small room behind them.

"Security cameras," John said thoughtfully, moving to stand next to Elizabeth, "If the person who killed Monroe was able to get into the system to erase evidence, there's no reason he couldn't do the same thing to keep tabs on the investigation."

"Assuming it's a he," Rodney snarked.

"How many personnel onboard have the technical skills to do something like this?" Caldwell asked, a small scowl forming on his face.

"Almost everybody," Rodney huffed, "That's what you get for assembling a team of brilliant scientists."

"Not everyone. Eighty-one members of the Atlantis Expedition," D answered automatically, her head tilted back on the wall she was leaning against, "Not including Dr. McKay, Dr. Monroe, Dr. Lindstrom, and myself. Forty-nine of the _Daedalus_ crew members, twenty-two of whom were on duty at the time of the accident."

"Wait, _what_?" Rodney whirled around to face her, "How do you know that?"

"I memorized the personnel files," D lifted her head to look at Rodney.

"Why would you do that?" Rodney asked with disbelief.

"It's my job," D shrugged.

"And you are…?" John questioned.

"No one important," D shook her head.

"I can't believe it would be one of our own people," Elizabeth insisted, drawing attention back to her, "Isn't it possible there's an intruder onboard?"

"We used the life-signs detector to do a head count," Caldwell shook his head, "We didn't get any extra signals."

"Well, a hibernating Wraith, they can avoid detection," Elizabeth reminded him.

"We've seen that tactic before," John agreed, "Beam in, lay low, then look for the chance to conduct sabotage."

"That was on Atlantis," Caldwell argued, "It's been at least two months since this ship encountered the Wraith. There's no way one of them could have stowed onboard that long."

"He's right," Rodney said reluctantly, "They did a full decontamination sweep back on Earth. They would've found something."

"All right, then," Caldwell turned to the airmen waiting behind him, "As of this moment, I want all civilian personnel confined to their quarters."

"What?" Elizabeth asked incredulously.

"Present company excepted, of course," Caldwell turned back to Elizabeth.

"Uh, Colonel, with all due respect, some of those people could be extremely helpful in the investigation," Rodney pointed out.

"I'm sorry, Doctor, but I can't trust any of them for the simple reason that I didn't have any say in their selection," Caldwell looked at Elizabeth pointedly, "Somebody else was in charge of that process."

Caldwell left, the airman trailing behind him.

Elizabeth looked over to D, raising a curious eyebrow, "I thought you were going to wait until the morning."

"I don't sleep much, ma'am," D responded easily.

"I see that," Elizabeth said wryly, "Did you get through all of the _Daedalus_ personnel already?"

"I started at the top and I've made it through the majority. I only had a couple hours," a smile quirked onto D's face but was immediately replaced by a neutral expression, "If you'd like, I can finish reviewing them while I'm confined to my quarters."

"I don't think that will be necessary," Elizabeth shook her head.

"The confinement or the review?" D asked cautiously.

"The confinement," Elizabeth replied calmly, "I assume you're going to review the files no matter what I say."

"I follow your orders, ma'am," D inclined her head respectfully, "If you don't want me to, I won't. But I do think it's prudent, considering."

"You really think so?" Elizabeth frowned slightly.

"Dr. Weir," D flicked her glance to where John and Rodney were still watching the two of them curiously, "My job is to assist you in every way possible. That includes analyzing all available data and offering you my assessment of any given situation."

"Even if I don't listen to your assessment?" Elizabeth asked thoughtfully.

"Even then, ma'am," D nodded solemnly.


	4. Reaction

Elizabeth watched as Rodney moved around the consoles, unceremoniously pushing the _Daedalus_ crew members out of the way as he worked.

Rodney bumped into John and scowled slightly, "Do you mind?"

"This is what I do when I have problems with my laptop," John moved out of the way around the console, "I turn it off and then I turn it on again."

"I think this is a little bit more complicated than that," Elizabeth said calmly. She heard D whisper heatedly from her position next to Hermiod, the two of them having a mumbled conversation with each other.

"I'm just saying that if we're taking a page from the John Sheppard book of computer repair, we're really desperate," John insisted.

Rodney ignored him, reaching up to tap his radio, "All right, Colonel, we're ready."

D moved away from Hermiod, coming to stand behind Elizabeth as Caldwell's voice came over the PA, "_All personnel. This is Colonel Caldwell. Prepare for a full system shutdown_."

The crew members in the engineering room and in the hallway beyond stopped moving, everyone stilling to prepare for the shutdown.

D lifted her left hand, placing it gently on Elizabeth's right shoulder as Rodney gave Hermiod the signal. The ship was plunged into darkness for a couple long minutes before Elizabeth heard Hermiod reach over to restart the system. The lights came back on and D dropped her hand, earning a curious glance from John as she moved quickly back over by Hermiod, looking down at his screens.

"_Engine room, what's our status_?" Caldwell's voice came over the radio.

"All systems are functioning normally," Rodney replied smugly, "No sign of the virus. Looks like it worked, Colonel."

"May I suggest we vacate this system?" Hermiod advised, "Our current position may well have been compromised."

"_Can you give me hyperdrive_?" Caldwell questioned.

"That will take longer to get back online," Hermiod informed him.

"I can get you sub-light," Rodney gave Hermiod a haughty look as he spoke into the radio.

Elizabeth's relief lasted only a brief moment before Hermiod mumbled something and D cleared her throat.

"Dr. McKay?" D asked evenly.

"Yes, yes, I see it," Rodney started working furiously at his console again, "Damn it!"

"_Engine room, what's happening_?" Caldwell questioned.

"The virus. It's back," Rodney moved quickly over to Hermiod's console, quickly glancing at the screen before moving back to his own, "Now it's got full control of sub-light navigation."

"You said all systems were clean," John pointed out.

"They were. When we did the reboot, there was no sign of the virus," Rodney insisted, "This shouldn't be happening."

Rodney moved over to Hermiod's console again, raising his hand to press it against his chin in thought. Elizabeth heard the voice of the helmsman in the background on her radio, telling Caldwell of their new course.

"What happened?" Elizabeth looked over to Hermiod and D.

"I'm not sure what happened, ma'am," D answered without looking up from her study of the consoles, "Dr. McKay is correct, the virus _was_ gone."

"The virus returned almost immediately after we re-started the system," Hermiod informed them.

"At the risk of repeating myself," John said carefully, his gaze following Rodney as he moved back to his console, "I thought you said we wiped it out."

"We did," Rodney responded, "We must have missed something."

"And it's going to crash us into a sun?" Elizabeth inquired.

"Not exactly," D replied shortly.

"A more precise calculation of our heading shows that we will not collide with the star, but rather make a close approach, near its coronasphere," Hermiod agreed, "The ship will survive, but the radiation will kill everyone on board."

"Why kill everyone if they already have full navigational control?" Elizabeth asked, the frustration finally leaking through in her voice.

"The virus has access to our database," Rodney snarked, "It knows our tactics, our tendencies…"

"They know we'd destroy the ship before we'd allow it to fall into Wraith hands," John concluded.

"How could a computer virus survive with no system to inhabit?" D looked over to Rodney, a peculiar expression on her face.

"Wait a minute," Rodney straightened, "There was a situation similar to this back at Stargate Command. I remember reading the report. An alien entity took control of the base computer, so they did a system shutdown to destroy it. It survived by loading itself onto a MALP."

"Okay," Elizabeth said warily, "We don't have any MALPs."

"No, but we've got a bay full of F-302s," Rodney pointed towards the door, "We already know the virus can upload itself onto the ship's navigational computers, but it could've used any of those ships as a hiding place while we wiped the _Daedalus_ system clean. It's the only possible explanation."

"_Ne yedinstvennoye vozmozhnoye ob"yasneniye, no naiboleye veroyaten_," D spoke quietly. [Russian: Not the only possible explanation, but the most probable one.]

"What?" Rodney questioned.

"Nothing, Dr. McKay," D looked down at Hermiod's console again.

"So…?" Elizabeth prompted, "What do we do?"

"So," Rodney replied, "we physically pull the memory storage modules from the 302s. We do another shutdown. That should do the trick."

"Contact the bridge," John commanded as he headed towards the door, Rodney following close behind him, "Tell Caldwell we're on our way to the bay now."

"Ma'am?" D stepped over to take Rodney's place at the consoles.

"Please," Elizabeth nodded.

D tapped her radio, quickly relaying John's message to Caldwell and cutting her radio off.

"This virus is fascinating," D said absently, studying the scrolling Wraith language on the screens in front of her, "The level of intelligence it displays is remarkable."

"Dr. Vaughn," Hermiod said evenly, "May I remind you, this particular virus, fascinating though it may be, is currently attempting to kill everyone on this ship through intense solar radiation?"

"Yes, thank you, Hermiod," D gave him a flat look, "I was simply making a comment on the ingeniousness of the design. It's not like I want to keep it around as a pet."

"I should hope not," Elizabeth said dryly.

"I'd think that an advanced race such as the Asgard," D continued with a small huff, "would be able to appreciate the aesthetics of an artificially intelligent computer virus."

"I did not say it was not interesting," Hermiod insisted, "Under other circumstances, I would share your enthusiasm, however-"

"_Hermiod_," Caldwell's voice over the radio interrupted, "_I need to be able to beam Lt. Colonel Sheppard and Dr. McKay to the 302 bay. The virus has cut-off all access routes._"

"It will take a moment to make some adjustments to the transport system, Colonel Caldwell," Hermiod responded, already pressing the buttons on his console, "Please stand-by."

"The virus is reacting too quickly," D frowned down at her console, muttering quietly to herself, "It's almost as if…"

"The transport system is ready, Colonel Caldwell," Hermiod announced.

"_Activating transport beam now_," Caldwell said evenly.

"Raise the shield in the fighter bay," D commanded, looking up to Hermiod suddenly, "Now."

System alarms began blaring as Hermiod pressed a series of buttons on his console.

"_Bridge to engine room_!" Caldwell shouted over the radio, "_Beam them out now_!"

"What's happening?" Elizabeth questioned.

"Colonel Sheppard, Dr. McKay, can you hear me?" Hermiod asked calmly.

"_Yeah, we're reading you_," John's voice came over the radio and Elizabeth let out a quiet sigh of relief.

"I have raised the fighter bay shield in order to prevent the atmosphere from escaping," Hermiod informed them, "However, the virus has invaded the system and it is only a matter of time before it gains control. Therefore, I suggest you complete your task as quickly as possible."

"Can you keep the virus out of the shield long enough for them to finish?" Elizabeth directed the question to Hermiod after several tense moments.

"I am attempting to do so, Dr. Weir," Hermiod replied.

"The virus is not merely _reacting_ to our attempts to get rid of it," D explained as Elizabeth turned back to her with a questioning look, "It's _anticipating_ them. Once it sealed off all open routes, our most obvious move would be to beam Colonel Sheppard and Dr. McKay into the bay. The next logical option for the virus was to open the doors, decompressing the bay. That way we wouldn't be able to pull the computers from the 302s and the virus would have eliminated two of its more serious threats."

"Okay, I understand why this virus would see Rodney as a threat" Elizabeth said with a small frown, "but John as well?"

"Dr. McKay has the technical skills and intelligence level to be a threat to the virus, which obviously makes him a target," D responded, tilting her head to the side, "Lt. Colonel Sheppard is…wildly unpredictable in his responses and reactions. That makes him very dangerous to any intelligent being, including this artificially intelligent virus, which relies heavily on logic to anticipate and counteract any moves we might make."

"I see," Elizabeth bit back her smile.

"I can no longer prevent the virus from gaining complete control of the shield," Hermiod stated after a minute.

"Well, beam them out!" Elizabeth ordered quickly.

"Unfortunately," Hermiod looked up from his console, "it appears I have lost control of that system as well."

"_Colonel Sheppard, do you read me_?" Caldwell's voice came over the radio, "_Colonel Sheppard, do you read_?"

"_This is Sheppard. We're okay_," Sheppard answered after a moment, "_We managed to get in the last F-302 before we lost atmosphere. Any chance you could beam us out_?"

"Sorry, John, we lost the transport beam," Elizabeth told him, "You're going to have to sit still for a while."

"_We pulled all the memory units_," Rodney informed them, "_Another shutdown should work_."

"Understood," Elizabeth acknowledged.

"_Engine room, this is the bridge_," Caldwell said, "_We don't have a lot of time before we approach lethal radiation levels_."

"Most of the shutdown protocols are still in place from our first attempt," Hermiod replied, "This will only take a few minutes."

"_Let's hope we have a few minutes_," Caldwell stated.

After a couple minutes of silent working Hermiod finally spoke again, "Colonel Caldwell, I am ready to attempt another shutdown."

"_All hands, this is Colonel Caldwell_," Caldwell said over the PA, "_We're going to give this another shot_."

"Elizabeth," D said quietly, "Please come stand over here."

"Making sure you don't lose me when the lights go off?" Elizabeth smiled wryly, coming to stand by D by the console.

"Maybe I'm just afraid of the dark and I want to hold someone's hand," D raised an eyebrow, laying her right hand gently on Elizabeth's forearm.

"_We're initiating total system shutdown now_," Caldwell announced.

Hermiod pressed the keys on his console and the ship was once again plunged into darkness. Hermiod waited a minute and tapped the button again, the lights coming back up as he spoke, "Re-initializing."

"Did it work?" Elizabeth asked as D moved her hand away.

"We will know momentarily," Hermiod answered evenly.

"_This is Sheppard_," John said over the radio, "_What just happened_?"

"_Stand by_," Caldwell replied, "_We're trying to figure that out_."

There was a short pause before Caldwell spoke again, "_It didn't work. We're still on course for the coronasphere_."

Hermiod mumbled under his breath as Elizabeth ducked her head with a frown.

"Wow, Hermiod," D smirked, "You could make a sailor blush with a mouth like that."

Hermiod mumbled something else at D, not bothering to look up from his console.

"Now, that wasn't a very nice thing to say," D pouted, "If we're all going to die in a puddle of radioactive goo, the least you could do is be polite beforehand."

"There has got to be something else we can do," Elizabeth insisted.

"_Engine room, this is Sheppard_," John's determined voice came over the radio, "_Prepare to initiate another shutdown on my command_."

"John, what are you doing?" Elizabeth asked warily.

"_Getting rid of the last place the virus can hide_," John answered firmly.

"_You'd better make this quick, Sheppard_," Caldwell responded, "_Radiation levels are beginning to rise on the outer hull_."

"He's going after the last 302," D said thoughtfully, "Hermiod, could you show us his progress please?"

Hermiod pressed a few keys, "I have them on my screens. The computer-controlled ship is preparing to fire."

The image on the screen behind Hermiod showed the two ships suddenly changing positions.

"Nice move," Elizabeth raised an eyebrow.

"Indeed," Hermiod agreed.

"Wildly unpredictable, ma'am," D shook her head.

"Radiation levels in the Colonel's ship are beginning to rise," Hermiod informed them.

The image on Hermiod's screens fuzzed out.

"What happened?" Elizabeth questioned Hermiod.

"They're approaching the coronasphere," Hermiod answered evenly, "There is too much interference."

"How long can they survive those radiation levels?" Elizabeth asked carefully.

"I believe it has already been too long," Hermiod stated.

"John, can you read me?" Elizabeth looked down anxiously, "Oh, please. Rodney, come in."

"_Daedalus, this is Sheppard_," John answered after a small pause, "_Target is destroyed. I repeat. Target is destroyed. If you try one more shutdown, I think it might just work_."

"Well done, both of you," Elizabeth gave a relieved smile, "You had us a little worried there for a minute."

"_Sorry about that_," John replied.

"_This is Caldwell_," Caldwell interjected, "_We'll rendezvous as soon as we've eradicated the virus once and for all._"

"_Roger that_," John acknowledged, "_Sheppard out_."


	5. Figure It Out

Elizabeth stepped into the briefing room, D following a step behind and to the left, and the doors swung shut behind them. Elizabeth was wearing her base uniform, gray slacks and matching gray jacket with the red panels on the front that marked her as the civilian leader of the expedition, unzipped to reveal the red tee-shirt underneath. Her short brown curls fell around her neck above the collar. D was also in the Atlantis base uniform, her jacket with blue panels zipped up halfway with a gray-blue uniform shirt underneath, the collar unzipped only to the base of her throat, and her gray slacks pressed neatly. Her burgundy hair was pulled back into a low, sensible bun.

Around the table sat the rest of the senior staff, also dressed in variations of the Atlantis gray uniform. John, Teyla, and Lorne sat on one side of the u-shaped table while Rodney, Carson, and Zelenka occupied the other. The chair at the center, between John and Rodney, was left open for Elizabeth.

"Good morning, everyone," Elizabeth greeted them cheerfully as she slid into her chair, setting her PDA down in front of her, "I just wanted to check in, see how everyone's settling in, now that we've been home a couple days."

"Well, none of the new guys have blown anything up yet," Rodney snarked, "but it's still early."

"Were we able to get permanent living quarters assigned to all of the new expedition members?" Elizabeth asked D, who had taken a position standing with her back against the wall behind Elizabeth.

"All civilian personnel are now assigned rooms, ma'am," D consulted her tablet, "There are still two platoons of Marines, as well as twenty-seven other members of the military, including Major Lorne, that haven't been assigned individual quarters. They are still sharing the temporary group quarters."

"We're pretty used to sharing space, ma'am," Lorne said easily, "There's no rush."

"Still, let's try to get them into their quarters by the end of the week," Elizabeth looked over her shoulder to D.

"Yes, ma'am," D nodded.

"How are the new members of your departments doing?" Elizabeth looked around the table, "Any problems so far?"

"There was a minor scuffle over some lab space," Zelenka straightened his glasses, "But it has been settled."

"Doctors Schultz and Kappel?" D asked quietly, making a note on her tablet.

"Yes," Zelenka answered, looking over to D oddly, "How did you know that?"

"I memorized the personnel files," D looked up at him, "They work in similar fields so they've been competing for most of their professional lives. _Budou buď skončí navzájem zabíjet, nebo spí spolu v průběhu roku_." [Czech: They'll either end up killing each other or sleeping together within the year.]

Zelenka quickly smothered a laugh before he asked curiously, "_Mluvíte česky_?" [Czech: You speak Czech?]

"_Ano_," D agreed easily. [Czech: Yes.]

"Is there going to be a problem with the two of them?" Elizabeth directed the question to Zelenka.

"I doubt it," Zelenka shook his head, "Even if there is a problem, I can handle it."

"All right, let me know if that changes," Elizabeth nodded, "Was there anything else?"

"I'm missing several cases of supplies for the infirmary," Carson spoke up, "I know they were on the _Daedalus_ when we left Earth, but they seemed to have vanished somewhere between here and there."

"Anything important?" Elizabeth inquired.

"The only thing of note were the cases that contained my new surgical tools," Carson replied.

"We've got three extra supply cases in one of the armories," Lorne informed them, "The labels on them were damaged in transport. We haven't opened them yet, but they could be your tools."

"Let's have them opened after the meeting," Elizabeth decided, "to find out what's inside and arrange to have them moved to the appropriate place."

"Yes, ma'am," Lorne nodded.

"Even if those are my missing surgical implements," Carson pointed out, "I'm still missing two more cases, both containing supplies for the field medic kits."

"Dr. Vaughn?" Elizabeth turned to look at her.

"I'll contact the _Daedalus_ when this meeting is done, ma'am," D inclined her head, "It's possible some of Atlantis' supplies got misplaced when they were unloading the ship."

"Good," Elizabeth started to turn back around to the table but stopped, "Are you going to stand behind me the whole time?"

D blinked twice, tilting her head to one side, "Ma'am?"

"Get a chair and sit down, please," Elizabeth gestured towards the empty chairs at the end of the table.

"That's really not necessary," D insisted neutrally, "I'm fine standing, ma'am."

"I'd rather not have to look over my shoulder every time I want to ask you a question," Elizabeth said dryly.

"Yes, ma'am," D set her tablet down on the table. She quietly pulled a chair from the end of the table, rolling it to the space between Rodney and Elizabeth before sitting down stiffly, eyes firmly on the table in front of her.

"How are we doing with the increased security patrols?" Elizabeth looked over to John.

"Lorne and I have come up with a tentative schedule," John leaned back comfortably in his chair, "combining the first-wavers with the new guys until they get the hang of things."

"What about getting the new expedition members cleared for off-world travel?" Elizabeth questioned.

"Well, the military were all cleared before we left the SGC," Lorne responded, "We've been working on getting most of the scientists cleared since we arrived here, but it's slow going."

"Is there any way we can speed up the process?" Elizabeth wondered.

"I can assign some more men," John offered.

"There are already sixteen people assigned to clearing civilians for off-world travel," D said absently, scrolling through her tablet, "Assigning more won't make a difference."

"Why wouldn't it?" John inquired curiously.

"My apologies, Dr. Weir, Colonel Sheppard," D winced slightly as her head snapped up, wide-eyed gaze shifting between Elizabeth and John, "I didn't mean to speak out of turn."

"It's all right," Elizabeth said lightly, "What did you mean?"

"Are you sure, ma'am?" D asked cautiously.

"Please," Elizabeth nodded, "Go ahead and explain."

"All available space designated for firearms training is already occupied," D stated, straightening to attention in her chair, "There are only three firing ranges, one of which is earmarked for rifle training and practice only. Of the two remaining firing ranges, each has only enough space for six people at a time. Current protocol dictates that each civilian be trained for a minimum of six hours on a standard-issue nine millimeter, a Beretta 92FS on this base, passing their final qualification with a score of seventy-eight or above before they can be cleared for off-world travel. There were one hundred four civilians of the Atlantis Expedition on the _Daedalus _this trip, not including myself, who needed to be cleared. As of 0800 this morning, Major Lorne's team has cleared twenty-three of them. Unless Lt. Colonel Sheppard is willing to either re-designate the third range as a combined rifle/pistol range, changing its current configuration, or clear another area large enough to add an additional pistol range, there isn't enough space for additional groups and therefore no need for additional instructors. If Major Lorne's team keeps up at their current rate, assuming a minimum of seventy-five percent of the civilians pass on their first try and a minimum of three groups at each range a day, everyone should be cleared in three days. Of course, that estimate only takes into account their weapons qualifications, it doesn't include any other off-world protocols they are required to learn, or any medical exams they need to undergo. Taking all of that into account, I'd estimate you'll be able to start forming additional off-world teams in…six days, maybe seven."

There was a stunned silence in the room after D finished her explanation. Elizabeth looked at her PDA on the table, trying to hide the small smile on her face.

"_What_?" Rodney gaped.

"Which part would you like me to repeat?" D asked evenly.

"How in the _world_ do you know all that?" Lorne's eyes widened in surprise.

"It's my job," D shrugged.

"I'm going to ask again," John questioned evenly, "Who are you?"

"Dr. Vaughn is my new executive assistant," Elizabeth answered diplomatically, smile replaced with a calm expression.

"Did the IOA assign her to you?" John looked between Elizabeth and D suspiciously.

"General O'Neill offered Dr. Vaughn the position," Elizabeth replied evenly, "And after meeting her, I agreed."

"Since when do we have secretaries on Atlantis?" Rodney scoffed.

"I am not a secretary, Dr. McKay," D said coolly, "I am Dr. Weir's assistant."

"Right, glorified secretary," Rodney waved a hand dismissively, "Whatever. Doesn't answer my question."

"Rodney," Elizabeth cautioned.

"You're absolutely correct, Dr. McKay," D said evenly, turning her icy stare to Rodney, "I didn't answer your question. Perhaps it would help if I listed my qualifications for you. I hold two PhDs from Harvard, linguistics and political science, both finished in three years each and both with over a 4.0 GPA. I am fluent in forty different languages, including all those spoken by current expedition members. I have an IQ within four points of your own and an eidetic memory. I can name every member of this expedition, both civilian and military, and tell you each person's rank or department, as well as their specialties. I can also tell you exactly what use each room in Atlantis is currently designated for and exactly where it is located within the city. Before General O'Neill offered me the position here, I worked for the United States government doing high-risk threat assessments. I am no more a 'secretary' than you are a high school science teacher."

"Four points higher or lower?" Rodney narrowed his eyes at her.

"Now, Rodney," D leaned towards him, voice dropping to a near-purr, "Do you _really_ think I'm going to tell you that after you called me a glorified secretary?"

"I bet it's lower," Rodney said haughtily.

"How did you come to that conclusion?" D arched an eyebrow at Rodney.

"You'd tell me if it was higher," Rodney insisted, his eyes roaming over her, "to prove your point."

"I've already proved my point, Doctor, whether you grasped it or not," D smirked, leaning back in her chair and crossing her hands across her lap, "So why would I tell you when it's much more entertaining to watch your reactions as you try to figure it out?"

"Are you two quite finished?" Elizabeth said evenly.

"_Pergit eo_," D turned back to Elizabeth with a small pout. [Latin: He started it.]

"Really, Dr. Vaughn?" Elizabeth raised an eyebrow at her.

"Sorry, ma'am," D ducked her head to look at the table again.

"What did she say?" Rodney sat forward, glaring at D.

"Never mind," Elizabeth gave them both a small scowl, "Can we get back on track please? Where were we?"

"Clearing civilians for off-world travel," John answered with an amused smirk, "and how to speed up the process."

_*AM*AM*AM*AM*AM*AM*AM*_

D walked into the infirmary later that afternoon, several men in uniform carrying two large metal crates behind her.

"Has anyone seen Dr. Beckett?" D called into the busy room.

Carson appeared around a corner, "Yes?"

"I've located your missing med kit supplies," D gestured to the men behind her, "Where would you like them?"

"Just over there, lads," Carson pointed to a large stack of boxes against the far wall, "Thank you."

"They got mixed up with the _Daedalus_ infirmary's supplies," D made a note on her tablet, "Did Major Lorne bring over the other three cases?"

"Aye," Carson nodded, "About an hour ago. Seems someone decided that since the cases contained metal, they belonged in the armory."

"Hmmm," D looked up at Carson with an odd expression, "I'll assume that made sense at the time. Did you have a minute to talk, Dr. Beckett?"

"Of course, dear," Carson smiled.

"In your office?" D glanced around the busy room.

"This way," Carson turned, leading the way through the people milling around to a small room at the back of the infirmary.

D followed Carson into the room, waving a hand over the crystals to shut the door behind her.

"What seems to be the problem, love?" Carson asked.

"I've been…" D hesitated, tilting her head to the side, "…hearing a sort of humming, or singing maybe, since we arrived on Atlantis. Not in my ears though…in the back of my mind? It's not constant and it changes…well, feelings, for lack of a better word."

"Oh," Carson smiled widely, "That's just the City."

"The city?" D wondered.

"Aye," Carson nodded, "You tested positive for the ATA gene. Quite a strong expression, in fact. All the ATA positive people can sense Ancient tech in some form or another. Personally, I get different smells from different tech. Dr. Kusanagi gets different tastes for different things. Rodney insists that he can feel what something is by touching it. The effects vary from person to person."

"That wasn't in any of the reports," D scowled slightly.

"Well, no," Carson said sheepishly, "It's sort of an unspoken rule among those of us who have the gene that we don't say anything about it."

"Understandable," D nodded, "since doing so would likely involve many rounds of psychiatric evaluations."

"Exactly," Carson grinned, "I've been monitoring the different effects, just in case there's any serious issues. For now, it's nothing to worry about, but do let me know if anything changes."

"This place is so," D paused, searching for an appropriate word, "peculiar."

"That it is," Carson agreed easily.

"May I ask you another question?" D inquired calmly.

"You can always ask me whatever questions you want, love," Carson assured her.

"Was I out of line this morning?" D looked down at the floor, "During my interactions with the senior staff, I mean."

"Did Elizabeth say something to you?" Carson asked cautiously.

"No, but…" D shrugged and looked back up at Carson, "It's just…neither General O'Neill nor Dr. Weir told me who I was supposed to be while here on Atlantis."

"Who you're supposed to be?" Carson wondered.

"I've spent my life pretending to be someone else in order to accomplish my mission," D explained, "I don't know how to interact with people as…a version of myself. I wouldn't have bothered you with this normally, but if I'm going to protect Dr. Weir, I need to know how to behave appropriately here."

"First of all," Carson started, "I'm absolutely sure that Dr. Weir would be the first person to say something if she thought you were out of line. Second of all, anyone who can handle Rodney as easily as you did deserves some sort of medal. Although, you may have to worry about him following you around asking about your IQ now."

"Actually," a small smile appeared on D's face, "Dr. McKay hacked into the personnel file I created for myself about two hours after the meeting. I assume he'll be satisfied with the information he finds there, at least temporarily."

"Temporarily," Carson laughed in agreement.


	6. Offer

"After they scooped up Ford, the darts made a beeline for the gate. We tried to stop them, but…" John trailed off.

"You had him in your sights," Caldwell scoffed, "and you let him get away."

"I shot him once," John said carefully, "It didn't slow him down."

"I shot him too," Rodney raised a finger.

"He ran into the beam," John insisted.

"Are you suggesting he wanted to be taken?" Elizabeth questioned.

"I think he saw it was the only way off the planet," John admitted.

"I can tell you from the quality time I spent with Ford," Rodney interjected, "he was definitely not thinking straight."

"Now, thanks to you, he's in enemy hands with information that could compromise all of us," Caldwell turned to walk out of the conference room.

"I don't think he'll give us away," John protested.

Caldwell turned back towards John in the doorway, "Oh, thank you so much for your assurance, Colonel. I'll be sure to include your _feelings_ in my report."

"_On ostavlyayet skoro, da_?" D asked quietly after Caldwell was gone. [Russian: He leaves soon, yes?]

"_Da_," Elizabeth nodded at D, then turned back to Teyla, "You said you got a gate address from our guest of his homeworld?" [Russian: Yes.]

"We did," Teyla agreed easily, "But Ronon said he has been a Runner for seven years. It is likely there have been many changes on his homeworld in that time."

"There's no telling what his planet is like now," John crossed his arms across his chest, "Especially if they were fighting the Wraith."

"D," Elizabeth turned to her, "Could you ask Chuck prepare a MALP and have it sent to the address Ronon provided?"

"Of course, ma'am," D inclined her head and turned to leave.

"Your name is really 'D'?" Rodney inquired, "That's not just some pretentious thing you made up for yourself to sound cooler?"

"Isn't that what you read in my file?" D asked calmly, not slowing her pace as she left.

Rodney's cheeks pinked as everyone in the room turned to face him.

"McKay, what did you do?" John questioned.

"I may have checked out Dr. Vaughn's personnel file after the first staff meeting," Rodney admitted.

"Rodney," Elizabeth scolded.

"I'm sorry," Rodney's tone implied he wasn't really all that sorry, "but this girl just shows up out of nowhere and she has access to everything about Atlantis? She's always around, Elizabeth, following you like a lost puppy or something. How do we know we can trust her? And come to think of it, how did she know I accessed her file? I know I didn't leave a trail."

"I'm not even going to comment," Elizabeth straightened, "on how incredibly inappropriate it is for you to hack your way into the personnel files. I will, however, remind you that Dr. Vaughn has the trust of both General O'Neill and myself."

"But she's-" Rodney started.

"Unless that's not good enough for you?" Elizabeth crossed her arms across her chest and raised an eyebrow at Rodney.

Rodney's mouth snapped shut. Elizabeth stared at him a moment longer, then picked up her PDA, heading out of the room.

"And Dr. McKay?" Elizabeth turned back in the doorway and narrowed her eyes at Rodney, "I wouldn't let Dr. Vaughn hear you call her a lost puppy. It wouldn't end well for you."

_*AM*AM*AM*AM*AM*AM*AM*_

"I'm not sure it's a good idea, John," Elizabeth turned from the large monitor, making a note on her tablet.

"Elizabeth, you've got to see this guy in action," John insisted, following her as she moved behind the consoles, "He is an incredible shot. None of my guys could beat him in a fight _and_ he's ex-military."

"Yeah, not a military on Earth," Elizabeth reminded him.

"Well, look, the guy's got no place to go," John countered.

"You're not just being charitable?" Elizabeth looked up at him.

"No. I'm not," John persisted, "and I think he'd make a great addition to my team."

"We don't know anything about him," Elizabeth maintained.

"Well, what's there to know?" John asked a small smile.

"Dr. Weir," D spoke from the small walkway to Elizabeth's office, "You have a meeting with Dr. Hanson and Dr. Terris from environmental science. They're waiting in your office."

Elizabeth nodded in acknowledgment before turning back to John, "Anything would be helpful, really. He's not very forthcoming."

"He's been on the run from the Wraith for the past seven years. What do you expect?" John questioned, "Listen. Just talk to the guy. You owe him that, at least."

"Okay," Elizabeth handed her tablet to D, accepting the one she held out in return.

"Dr. Weir has a half an hour later this afternoon," D informed John as Elizabeth went into her office, sitting down behind her desk to talk to the waiting scientists, "I'll make sure she gets the chance to speak with Specialist Dex. Whether or not he actually says anything is up to him."

"Thanks," John gave her a lopsided smile.

"There's no need to thank me, Colonel Sheppard," D looked over the tablet she held, fingers moving quickly over the screen as she typed one-handed, "I'm not guaranteeing that Dr. Weir will allow Specialist Dex to serve on your team, only that they will have the opportunity to speak."

"Right," John drawled carefully, "That's what I meant."

D looked up from the tablet, blinking twice at John before she said smoothly, "Of course, Colonel."

They stared at each other awkwardly until D raised an eyebrow at John.

"Was there something else you needed, Colonel Sheppard?" she asked evenly.

"Look," John started, "about McKay hacking into your file."

"There was no harm done," D looked back to the tablet, typing away again, "Dr. McKay's response to my presence here was to be expected. I'm surprised he managed to wait as long as he did. I originally predicted he would access my file immediately after the meeting. Of course, the time variance could be explained by him getting side-tracked by something in the lab. I'll have to check the lab reports to make sure."

"You knew he was going to look at your file?" John asked skeptically.

"By refusing to answer Dr. McKay's question about my intelligence directly," D answered idly as she scrolled through text on the tablet, "I issued a challenge that his ego couldn't ignore. The body language I presented, as well as the tone of voice and specific phrases I used, were designed to make him simultaneously excited and suspicious. The two most likely outcomes of our conversation were him accessing my file or confronting me directly about my behavior. Given Dr. McKay's history, a direct confrontation was unlikely in this instance."

John stared at D for a moment before he spoke cautiously, "In this instance?"

"I highly doubt that will be the last time Dr. McKay and I clash," D looked up at Sheppard again, "He'll continue to push until he gets the result he wants."

"Which is?" John wondered.

"For me to roll over and let him have his way," D shrugged, "Or for me to push back. Enjoy the rest of your day, Colonel Sheppard."

D turned around and headed into Elizabeth's office.

_*AM*AM*AM*AM*AM*AM*AM*_

The doors to the gym slid open to reveal Ronon instructing a small group of Marines with a short wooden practice knife.

"Ronon?" Elizabeth asked politely, "Can I have a word?"

"Here," Ronon handed the knife to the nearest Marine. He came over to stand in front of Elizabeth and D, his arms folded across his chest as he waited for her to speak.

"I understand Colonel Sheppard extended an invitation to you to join his team," Elizabeth started.

"Yeah, he did," Ronon grunted in response.

"Well, he was supposed to speak to me about that first," Elizabeth informed him.

"Okay," Ronon replied.

"Look, it's not that I don't trust you, or value any contributions you may have to make," Elizabeth continued after a small pause, "Or that you will make, if you do join us, it's just… it is a rather big decision."

Ronon only continued to stare at Elizabeth silently.

"So how do you feel?" Elizabeth asked calmly.

"I'm thinking about it," Ronon answered gruffly.

"Okay. Good," Elizabeth smiled awkwardly, "Well, I'm thinking about it, too."

The two of them continued to stare at each other uneasily for another long minute.

"Dr. Weir," D spoke quietly, "Would you mind if Specialist Dex and I spoke for a moment in private?"

Ronon shifted his gaze to D, but didn't say anything.

"_Vous n'obtiendrez rien de lui_," D held Ronon's stare, but spoke to Elizabeth. [French: You will not get anything from him.]

"_Êtes-vous sûre_?" Elizabeth looked between the two of them. [French: Are you sure?]

"_Vous avez besoin d'une évaluation_," D turned to look at Elizabeth, "_Je peux le faire parler avec moi._" [French: You need an evaluation.] [French: I can get him to talk with me.]

After a short pause, Elizabeth nodded.

"Gentleman," D raised her voice to be heard by the Marines, "Would you give us the room for a few minutes please?"

The Marines looked over at the two women, then started filing quietly out of the room.

"We'll be fine, Sergeant," D smiled politely at the armed guard just inside the entrance.

"Ma'am?" the Sergeant looked to Elizabeth for permission.

"Specialist Dex won't hurt me," D assured them both, looking up at Ronon, "Will you, Ronon?"

"I won't," Ronon insisted.

"All right," Elizabeth agreed reluctantly, "I'll meet you in my office later, Dr. Vaughn."

"Yes, ma'am," D inclined her head as Elizabeth followed the guard out of the room, waving the door closed behind them.

Ronon watched as the small red-haired woman surveyed him from top to bottom before tilting her head to one side.

"How many weapons am I wearing right now, Specialist?" D asked steadily, watching as he straightened.

"Two knives," Ronon studied her carefully, "No, three."

"You're going to have to follow orders if you stay," D offered a small smile.

"I know," Ronon finally uncrossed his arms, letting them rest at his sides, "You her guard?"

"I am," D nodded, "But no one else knows. I'd appreciate it if you kept that information to yourself."

"Sure," Ronon shrugged, "But they'll figure it out."

"Not unless I want them to," D reached over slowly, laying her hand on Ronon's bicep gently, "My name is Dr. Vaughn, but I'd like it if you call me D."

"Ronon," he relaxed, offering a slight smile of his own.

"I'm glad you decided to stay, Ronon," D withdrew her hand, "Atlantis can use you and your skills. If you have any questions about the way things are done here, I'm sure Ms. Emmagan will be happy to help you."

"I haven't decided," Ronon said as D turned towards the door.

"Yes, you have," D smiled warmly over her shoulder as the door slid open.

_*AM*AM*AM*AM*AM*AM*AM*_

Elizabeth looked up from her work as D walked into her office from the control room.

"How did it go?" Elizabeth asked curiously.

"Specialist Dex is career military," D informed her, clasping her hands behind her back as she stood in front of Elizabeth's desk, "At least he was before the Wraith got a hold of him. Most likely joined at a young age with a desire to protect his home and family. He knows how to follow orders, even if he doesn't agree with them, so as long as Colonel Sheppard doesn't lose his respect, there should be no problem there. He also knows how to give orders and expects them to be followed when he does, which might be a problem with some of Atlantis' military until they learn he can be trusted. His physical skills and mental discipline have not diminished during his time as a runner, in fact, they may have improved. He correctly identified me your bodyguard the moment I spoke and knew I was carrying concealed weapons, something no one else in the City has accomplished. He also understands the value of keeping that information hidden. He's skittish, aggressive, feral in some respects, and a bit touch-starved, which is completely understandable considering what he's been through, but that should fade with time. I believe that Ronon would be an extremely valuable asset for Atlantis."

"Anything else I should know about him before I make my final decision?" Elizabeth leaned back in her chair.

"He's going to be a distraction to many of the female members of the expedition," D said dryly, "and more than a few of the men. I overheard Nurse Jones say she would 'climb him like a tree' when I went to talk to Carson about Dr. McKay and Lt. Cadman's condition."

Elizabeth gave a quick grin before she sobered and asked seriously, "And how are they doing?"

"McKay seems to think he's come up with an idea to separate them and restore Cadman to her original body," D informed her, "He sent Zelenka up here to retrieve some of the gate's control crystals."

"_Dr. Weir_, _Colonel Sheppard, Dr. Beckett_," Zelenka's voice came over the radio, "_Could you please come to the hangar bay_? _We are almost ready_."

"Speaking of," Elizabeth reached up to tap her earpiece, "I'm on my way, Dr. Zelenka."

* * *

Special thanks to reader LillyD11 for helping me with the French translations!


	7. Outliers

"And you believe they might be willing to share some of this mineral?" Elizabeth asked into her radio.

"_Well, they seem open to it_," John replied easily, "_They don't get many trading opportunities coming through the gate._"

"Sounds promising," Elizabeth smiled.

"_There is, however_," John continued, "_the minor moral hiccup of their form of capital punishment_."

"I'm sorry?" Elizabeth asked carefully.

"_They have an island_," Rodney explained, "_It''s their own version of Alcatraz, where they send their worst criminals_."

"_And the gate is on the island, so_…" John trailed off.

"So the Wraith feed on the prisoners?" Elizabeth concluded.

"_Yep_," John agreed.

"Talk about cruel and unusual punishment," Elizabeth shook her head.

"_I prefer lethal injection,_" Rodney snarked,"_although I do have a certain fondness for the electric chair. Call me a romantic._"

"_The Wraith get what they want and the Olesians get left alone," _Ronon added_, "I'm surprised it works_."

"_He did, however_," John informed her, "_say that only the most violent criminals get sent there, and that it has been this way for hundreds of years_."

"_Do you kill all of your violent criminals on Earth_?" Teyla asked curiously.

"_Certain countries, yes_," Rodney answered.

"_Do we need to get into this right now_?" John questioned.

"Well, we do if we plan on doing business with these people," Elizabeth insisted, "I want to know more before I jump to any conclusions. I think I'll have to talk to the Magistrate personally. Let him know I'll be coming to the planet to discuss trade opportunities and then head on back here."

"_We'll let him know. We'll be back soon_," John assured her, "_See you in a little bit._"

Elizabeth motioned toward the tech and the gate cut off as D came over to Elizabeth.

"I'd recommend taking Major Lorne's team with us to Olesia," D suggested quietly, "minus Dr. Parrish. Lorne is a decent diplomat and the two Marines on his team are patient and disciplined. The team will do well both if the negotiations go smoothly and if we run into any problems."

"You don't have to go with, Dr. Vaughn," Elizabeth insisted, "I'll be fine with Major Lorne and his team."

"Hmmm," D tilted her head to the side, "Jack owes me a drink."

"What?" Elizabeth asked curiously.

"Jack assumed that I would be the first to try to break our agreement," D answered with an amused smirk, "He even bet me a brand new bottle of Johnnie Walker Black Label. I'm curious to see how he's going to get it here."

"All I said was…" Elizabeth started but trailed off when D raised an eyebrow at her.

"I did warn you I would probably complain," Elizabeth said wryly.

"Yes, ma'am," D agreed steadily.

"We'll leave after the debriefing with Sheppard's team," Elizabeth ordered easily.

"I'll be ready," D nodded, "Dr. Zelenka called while you were speaking with Colonel Sheppard's team. It seems there was a minor explosion in one of the botany labs."

"Was anyone hurt?" Elizabeth questioned, a concerned frown appearing on her face.

"Dr. Brown is in the infirmary now. She has a minor concussion and a few bruises," D informed her, "Security has been dispatched to the lab and Dr. Zelenka has already begun clean-up. Dr. Parrish is requesting that you come down to speak with him as soon as possible. It seems that several of the plant samples he brought back from M4G-610 have explosive properties when exposed to certain wavelengths of light. He was quite…enthusiastic about the implications of explosive plants."

"Explosive plants?" Elizabeth asked warily.

"Yes, ma'am," D replied calmly.

"Right," Elizabeth sighed and shook her head, "I guess I'd better go speak with Dr. Parrish."

_*AM*AM*AM*AM*AM*AM*AM*_

"All set?" Elizabeth asked as she came into the jumper.

"Ready to go," Lorne confirmed, "Still no word from them?"

"Nothing," Elizabeth shook her head as she sat.

"Don't worry," Lorne reassured her, "We'll find them."

"I was hoping to negotiate a trade agreement," Elizabeth said, "Now I'm worried I'll have to negotiate their release."

"Sheppard's team will be recovered, ma'am," D sat in the chair behind Elizabeth as the two Marines closed the ramp behind them.

"You're just trying to make me feel better," Elizabeth retorted.

"Not really, Dr. Weir," D tilted her head, "Not including statistical outliers such as random puddle jumper malfunctions resulting in its destruction or one of the team members turning on the others and killing them, I believe we've covered most probable outcomes with the combined skill sets of the people in the jumper. Your background with difficult negotiations on Earth, as well as the experience you've gained during your time with the SGC and the Atlantis expedition, makes you more than qualified to negotiate with the people of Olesia for both trade and the release of AR-1. With Major Lorne and his team covering the remainder of the likely probabilities and me covering the more unlikely possibilities, I believe the recovery of AR-1 is an extremely probable outcome."

"Dial the gate," Elizabeth ordered Lorne with an amused shake of her head, "but go to stealth mode the moment we're through."

"Yes, ma'am," Lorne pressed the keys on the jumper's DHD and lowered them into the gate room.

As soon as they were through the wormhole, Lorne switched the cloak on and headed away from the small island to the larger land mass.

"Is there anything you didn't take into account?" Lorne asked curiously, "About retrieving Sheppard and his team, I mean."

"Weather," D answered vaguely.

"The weather?" Lorne wondered.

"Because of the incident in the botany lab, I didn't have the time to research the weather before we left," D shrugged, leaning back in her chair, "It's possible this planet has unusual weather patterns that could have interfered with the jumper's systems. However, seeing the current weather, blue skies and sunny, I'd say the probability of weather related problems is slim."

"And the probability of the team killing each other?" Elizabeth inquired.

"Highly unlikely, but still a possibility. Specialist Dex and Dr. McKay have conflicting personalities," D replied distantly, her eyes focused on the jumper's ceiling, "Ronon's job is to follow orders and McKay's is to question them. Since this is their first mission together, they're still getting used to each other. The two of them getting along in the beginning depends on whether Colonel Sheppard is able to prove he is a strong enough commander for Ronon to follow and whether Ms. Emmagan is able to exert her diplomatic influence over the entire team. The team will either achieve a suitable balance, making AR-1 one of the most capable and widely utilized teams in the City, or they'll fracture apart violently, in which case the US military will blame Lt. Colonel Sheppard for the failure. Then even Elizabeth's influence won't be able to stop Colonel Caldwell from being appointed Military Commander of Atlantis and I'll have to shoot him in the face for being a dick. The odds are about even for either scenario."

"Don't like Colonel Caldwell much, do you?" Lorne asked sardonically.

D's head snapped forward and she slapped a hand over her mouth. She looked to Elizabeth, flinching as she dropped her hand.

"My apologies, Dr. Weir," D said quickly, "I didn't mean to say that last part."

"It's all right," Elizabeth suppressed her smile, "I already knew the odds were even either way."

"Yes, ma'am, but that's not-" D started, looking to Lorne nervously.

"I'm still not past my disappointment about the whole 'didn't check the weather before we left' thing," Lorne gave an exaggerated sigh, "I just don't know how I'm going to manage."

"I'll be sure to include a full weather report in all your future mission briefings, Major," D deadpanned, "I'm sure Lt. Reed and Sergeant Coughlin will be overjoyed with the extra reading."

"Oh, look," Lorne brought up the HUD with a grin, "Landing instructions."

"Follow them please, Major," Elizabeth ordered easily, "And let's all be prepared for any possibilities, weather related or otherwise."

"Yes, ma'am," Lorne agreed.

_*AM*AM*AM*AM*AM*AM*AM*_

Elizabeth and her escorts were met at the landing site by a small security detachment through well-kept gardens to a large building made of concrete and glass. They were introduced to the Magistrate and his young assistant, who then led them through the impressive building to a small conference room, decorated in the same efficient style. The beginning talks were going well, until one of the nameless, silent guards pressed a hand to the oblong silver earpiece in his ear, then stepped forward to whisper in the Magistrate's ear.

"Is there a problem, Magistrate?" Elizabeth asked politely.

"I'm afraid the news is not good," the Magistrate answered uneasily, "Our rescue teams had just begun their search on the island when the ancestral ring activated."

"The Wraith?" Elizabeth asked warily.

"It appears a culling is under way. We're not sure how many ships are involved, but our teams were forced to pull back," the Magistrate spoke quickly, "I'm not giving up hope. I'll send teams back in the moment the Wraith are gone. Hopefully your friends will have evaded the culling. I must attend to this."

The Magistrate rushed out of the room, followed quickly by the uniformed guards. His assistant bowed her head respectfully, giving Elizabeth a nervous look before following the men, pulling the door shut behind her and leaving them alone in the room.

Elizabeth exchanged a guarded look with Lorne. She turned to D and seeing her gray eyes narrowed asked cautiously, "Dr. Vaughn, did you have something to say?"

D flicked her glance to the corner of the room, then smiled at Reed politely, "Lieutenant, could I ask you to take two steps to your left? Sergeant, three steps forward and one to your right, if you would."

The two Marines looked to Lorne, who nodded once, then they moved as they had been directed. D flicked her glance to the opposite corner of the room, then took Elizabeth's right elbow gently, moving her several steps towards the two Marines before dropping her hand back to her side.

"Major Lorne, if you would stand on Dr. Weir's left side please?" D asked calmly.

Lorne moved closer to Elizabeth, stepping around her to stand on her left side.

"There are two security cameras in this room," D explained softly, "Reed and Coughlin are blocking the view of anyone monitoring so as long as we speak quietly, we'll have some measure of privacy."

"How did you notice the cameras?" Elizabeth asked, resisting the urge to search the walls to find the cameras.

"It's my job," D said evenly, "Permission to speak freely, ma'am?"

"As a general rule, D," Elizabeth insisted, "I always prefer you speak freely."

"The sleaze ball is lying through his disgusting teeth, ma'am," D stated bluntly, "about nearly everything he's told us."

"Well, that's pretty obvious," Lorne agreed drolly.

"He was terrified when he received the report about the Wraith," D continued, "but in an extremely selfish manner. His pulse doubled and his hands started to shake. He all but ran from the room. He does not want us on the prison island for any reason and has very little interest in trading with us, at least fairly. His assistant, Marin, knows something but she's too afraid of the repercussions of speaking out. The Magistrate is a bully, used to getting what he wants at the expense of others, and may try to force a confrontation if we leave, but he'll only fight if he thinks he can win."

"Do you think he detained Sheppard's team?" Elizabeth narrowed her eyes.

"No, ma'am," D shook her head, "That was one of the only things he was telling the truth about. AR-1 is no longer in this part of Olesia. They're somewhere on the island."

"Anything else?" Lorne asked carefully.

"If the Magistrate forces a confrontation…" D held Elizabeth's hard gaze as she trailed off.

"I know how to deal with bullies," Elizabeth said firmly.

"Yes, ma'am," D inclined her head then turned to Lorne, "Major?"

"Don't back down," Lorne nodded and looked down to the sidearm strapped to D's left thigh, "You know how to use that?"

"Would I be allowed to wear it if I didn't?" D raised an eyebrow at him.

"I guess not," Lorne grinned.

"While we've got some spare time," D looked between Elizabeth and Lorne, "I'd like to propose a scheduling change."

"Scheduling change?" Elizabeth asked curiously.

"Yes, ma'am," D's mouth quirked into half a smile, "I've been going over the mission reports and I've discovered that Lt. Colonel Sheppard's team is three times as likely to require additional personnel to…_assist_ them during their missions. I'd like to recommend an extra two teams are on stand-by whenever AR-1 has an off-world mission scheduled."

"Only three times?" Lorne snorted, "From what I've heard, it's way more than that."

"We can discuss it when we get back to the City," Elizabeth agreed with an easy smile.


	8. Confrontation

Lorne watched as Elizabeth paced restlessly back and forth. The door handle turned and Marin stepped in quietly, looking back out in the hall nervously before she turned around, closing the door behind her once more. Lorne exchanged a quick look with D and moved to stand on the other side of Elizabeth, the two of them flanking her as she stepped forward.

"Marin?" Elizabeth asked warily, "What's happened?"

"No one must know I'm speaking to you," Marin said cautiously.

"Of course," Elizabeth reassured her.

"You should leave," Marin insisted, "as soon as possible."

"Why?" Lorne questioned.

"The Magistrate has just rescinded my orders to send rescue teams back to the island," Marin informed them.

"What?" Elizabeth asked incredulously, "Why would he do that?"

"Several arrests have been made," Marin answered nervously, "Many people in the city have been apprehended for unspecified violations to be sent to the island to increase the population there."

"To keep the Wraith fed," Lorne concluded.

"This has been going on for some time, but never so bad as this," Marin continued, "The number of arrests is – I cannot keep quiet any longer. I have to speak out."

"Lies," the Magistrate swore as he and his guards came into the room, "Seeding fear not only among your own people, but now our guests. I cannot allow it."

"I was only trying to understand why so many people are being arrested," Marin defended.

"Your job is not to question the actions of this government," the Magistrate made a gesture to the men behind him. Two of them stepped forward to take Marin's arms.

"No. Wait!" Marin protested as she was led from the room, "Help me! Please!"

"Where are they taking her?" Elizabeth questioned.

"I'm sorry you had to witness that," the Magistrate said calmly.

"What crime has she committed?" Elizabeth asked tightly.

"I have recently learned that Marin has been involved in a group seeking to undermine the Olesian government," the Magistrate explained smoothly, "She's become very adept at spinning lies to suit her organization's treasonable agenda."

"Did you or did you not rescind the order to send rescue teams back to the island?" Elizabeth inquired.

"Why would I do that?" the Magistrate scoffed.

"That doesn't concern me," Elizabeth straightened, "My first concern is with the safety of my people, and I promise you-"

"Everything is being done to ensure their rescue and safe return," the Magistrate insisted, "If there has been any hindrance at all, it was because of Marin."

"_C'est un très mauvais menteur_," D said quietly. [French: He is a very bad liar.]

"_Oui, en effet_," Elizabeth agreed, her voice growing hard, "What's going to happen to her now?" [French: Yes, he is.]

"She'll receive a fair trial in our courts," the Magistrate claimed.

"And then what," Lorne wondered, "sent to the island?"

"I'm sure where you come from," the Magistrate looked to Lorne, "treason is also considered a very serious offense."

"So that's a 'yes'," Lorne retorted.

"Tell me, _Magistrate_," D's hand tightened around the butt of her gun, "what else is considered a serious offense in Olesia?"

"Anything that threatens the welfare of the Olesian people," the Magistrate answered firmly.

"Are you sure it's the welfare of the people that concerns you?" Elizabeth scoffed, "Or just your own?"

"Choose your words very carefully, Dr. Weir," the Magistrate cautioned.

"Oh, I do. Why?" Elizabeth raised an eyebrow, "Is that a threat?"

"It's advice…" the Magistrate paused, "…from one ally to another."

"Well, this alliance…it's just been rescinded," Elizabeth looked to Lorne, "We're leaving."

The Magistrate gave a heavy sigh, gesturing to the uniformed men waiting behind him.

"What, do you plan to arrest us too?" Elizabeth questioned.

Lorne tightened his grip on his P90 and lifted his chin, watching out of the corner of his eye as his team did the same.

"Because you do not want to do that," Elizabeth said confidently.

Lorne raised and aimed his gun in one smooth motion, taking half a step in front of Elizabeth to protect her. He saw D, her sidearm in a steady two-handed grip, match his motions on the other side of Elizabeth at the same time. Coughlin and Reed raised their weapons a second after Lorne and D, moving forward into position to surround Elizabeth. Elizabeth held the Magistrate's stare for a tense moment until he dropped his eyes, sighing and nodding to the guards behind him. They parted, letting Elizabeth lead the way through the group out the door.

As soon as the door shut behind them, D slipped her gun back into the holster at her thigh and urged Elizabeth down the corridor with a gentle hand at her elbow.

"Can you find out where they took Marin, Dr. Vaughn?" Elizabeth asked quietly.

"Yes, ma'am," D responded softly, "Technically, I can."

"Technically?" Elizabeth questioned.

"Ma'am, if we take the time to locate and retrieve Marin," D answered evenly, "the Magistrate will have time to marshal his security forces. We don't have enough time to save her and make it out of here ourselves."

"She tried to warn us," Elizabeth protested.

"Dr. Weir," D stopped, letting go of Elizabeth's arm as she turned to face her, "You can either choose to retrieve Marin, forfeiting at least one of our lives and the lives of AR-1 to do so, or you can choose to leave now and search the island for Sheppard's team, sparing our lives and theirs. I'm sure I speak for all of us when I say: we'll follow whatever orders you give. But you need to decide quickly."

"There has to be something we can do," Elizabeth insisted.

"Elizabeth," D said softly, "I'm sorry, but you can't save everyone. Choose."

Elizabeth frowned and nodded once, turning to Lorne as she spoke, "Back to the jumper, Major."

"Yes, ma'am," Lorne nodded in agreement.

_*AM*AM*AM*AM*AM*AM*AM*_

By the time the jumper was able to return to Atlantis, John and his team were safely ensconced in the infirmary, Carson quietly fussing over their injuries. He had just moved on to Ronon, after the man had all but growled at the nurse he had sent over originally, when Elizabeth walked in, D following quietly behind.

"How are they, Carson?" Elizabeth asked, the concern clear on her face.

"Minor bruising, a few lacerations, other than that, they're fine," Carson tried to take Ronon's wrist to clean the cuts, "Hold still, lad."

"The Wraith?" John questioned, sitting up on the nearest gurney.

"They were still culling the mainland when we left," Elizabeth said tightly, "I'm afraid the Olesian people are paying for the Magistrate's selfishness."

Ronon glowered at Carson and shifted away when the Doctor tried to clean the scrapes again.

"Ronon," Teyla cautioned from behind him.

"I'm fine," Ronon grunted.

D stepped forward, wrapping her small hand partially around Ronon's forearm and pulling him off the gurney with an insistent tug. She grabbed the silver tray holding the medical supplies and ignored the quick protest Carson gave as she dragged Ronon to a secluded corner of the infirmary. Elizabeth watched as D simply sat on the floor without letting go of the taller man, forcing Ronon to sit down in front of her. She set the tray down between them and began cleaning the scrapes around his wrists gently.

"Why wouldn't he just let me do that?" Carson frowned.

"After being on the run for so long," Teyla stated calmly, "I believe it is still difficult for Ronon to accept help without fear of causing harm. Clearly, Dr. Vaughn is able to see this in him and provide him some comfort."

"I suppose given D's history," Carson said thoughtfully, "She would understand what he's going through better than the rest of us."

"What history?" John looked at Elizabeth curiously.

"Dr. Vaughn had a somewhat…" Elizabeth paused, exchanging a stern look with a nervous Carson, "…difficult past before General O'Neill recruited her."

"As long as his wounds are cleaned and dressed properly," Carson sighed, "I guess it doesn't matter who does it."

"Do not worry, Dr. Beckett," Teyla smiled, "In time, Ronon will understand that there is no harm in allowing others to help him freely."

"They'll be fine, Carson. Stop worrying," Elizabeth reassured him, turning back to John, "I hear you brought home another guest."

"Apparently, his name is Eldon. He used to be a scientist on Olesia," John informed her, "He says he didn't actually kill anyone to get on the island, that it was all a case of mistaken identity. McKay seems to think he's pretty smart, if a little strange."

"And where is he now?" Elizabeth asked Carson.

"He's in one of the isolation rooms with Rodney," Carson replied easily, "I can take you to them, if you'd like to speak with him yourself."

"Lead the way," Elizabeth agreed.

_*AM*AM*AM*AM*AM*AM*AM*_

Ronon watched as D methodically cleaned his cut wrists with the sharp smelling disinfectant. The corner the two of them were sitting in was quiet and mostly private, but Ronon could still see Carson lead Elizabeth and the rest of his team away.

"How was your first official mission?" D asked quietly.

"Fine," Ronon grunted.

"From the looks of your wrists," D started smoothing a cool analgesic cream on his right wrist, "It wasn't all that fine. Prisoners must have tied good knots to do this."

"I guess," Ronon gave her a one-shouldered shrug.

"Did you get to have any fun?" D looked up as she began wrapping his wrist in clean, white gauze.

"Got to beat some guys up," Ronon replied with a quick grin, "You?"

"Not really," D sighed as she secured the gauze, "I spent most of the time with the sleazy Magistrate."

"Didn't like him?" Ronon inquired.

"I hope the Wraith take a week to eat him," D scowled as she took Ronon's left wrist, smoothing the cool cream evenly over the scrapes.

Ronon snorted half a laugh.

"What about your team?" D questioned lightly, "Getting along okay with everyone? And don't say fine, Ronon."

"Teyla's nice and Sheppard's okay. But McKay is whiny," Ronon frowned, "Why does Sheppard put up with him?"

"Because McKay is incredibly intelligent," D started wrapping Ronon's other wrist, "And even though he doesn't seem like the type, he's saved the lives of many people on this base, Sheppard's included, many times over."

"Why doesn't he stay in the City?" Ronon questioned, "He's a civilian."

"I think Sheppard sees something in McKay that not many other people do," D secured the bandage, "A person that, given the chance, can use the talents he has to become a great person, a hero even. I think Sheppard is trying to give him that chance."

"You believe that?" Ronon asked skeptically.

"I believe that Dr. McKay's mind is an incredible gift," D answered thoughtfully, "Complaining and whining are just his way of coping with the responsibilities of that gift; the same way you choose to use your strength to protect others, even at the cost of isolating yourself from them."

"That wasn't an answer," Ronon grumbled.

"Yes, Ronon," D smiled softly, "I believe McKay is worth your protection. I believe Sheppard is a worthy leader for you. I believe Teyla's patience and compassion make her the strongest of all of you."

"I didn't ask that," Ronon scowled.

"But it's what you wanted to know," D tapped her earpiece, "Dr. Beckett, this is Dr. Vaughn."

"_This is Beckett_," Carson answered.

"Ronon is ready for you to look at the arrow wound in his right leg now," D retrieved the silver tray with the discarded supplies, "It looks like only superficial soft tissue damage, but it could do with a thorough cleaning and a few sutures."

"_I'll be right there_," Carson assured her.

"Thank you, Carson," D tapped her earpiece off as she and Ronon stood, "Do you want Teyla to stay with you while Carson stitches your leg? Or I can, if you'd be more comfortable."

"I'm good," Ronon insisted, looking down at his neatly bandaged wrists, "Thanks for…"

"Any time," D turned to leave, but looked back to Ronon hesitantly, "I know you've been running with Sheppard, but I'm up most mornings at 0430, if you'd like to start a little earlier."

"Dunno if you can keep up with me," Ronon grinned.

"I'm sure I'll manage somehow," D rolled her eyes, "I'll meet you outside your quarters at 0445."

* * *

Special thanks to reader LillyD11 for helping me with the French translations!


	9. Inconsistencies

John set his tray down at his team's shared table, pulling the last empty chair out to sit next to Teyla. Rodney was rambling about the latest accidental discovery his department made, both he and Teyla nibbling on sandwiches as he spoke. Ronon's tray was piled high with food and he was shoveling bites almost continually into his mouth, barely pausing for breaths between mouthfuls. John listened to Rodney's story, quietly eating his own lunch, until Rodney reached over mid-sentence to Ronon's tray to try to pick up his second bowl of blue jello. Ronon growled and tried to stab Rodney's hand with his fork.

"Rodney," John scolded, "Ronon."

"Oh, come on," Rodney ignored John, still trying to get the small bowl, "You've got two."

"Get your own," Ronon hunched over his food protectively.

"You took the last blue one," Rodney complained.

"No," Ronon insisted.

"I'll trade you my fruit cup," Rodney picked up his unopened dessert in offering.

"Like this better," Ronon spoke around a mouthful of food.

"Rodney," Teyla sighed, "Leave Ronon's food alone. There are other flavors, if you desire jello that badly."

"But blue is my favorite," Rodney whined.

"Don't let Ronon go first next time," John shrugged.

"But I didn't- " Rodney protested loudly.

"Afternoon everyone," D walked up to the table, balancing two trays full of food carefully on one arm.

"Hello, Dr. Vaughn," Teyla smiled politely, "Did you wish to join us for lunch?"

"No, thank you, Teyla," D took a large bowl off one of the trays, placing it next to Ronon as she spoke, "I was just stopping by to grab lunch for Dr. Weir. She seems to think that stale coffee is an appropriate meal. I'm trying to dissuade her of that notion."

"Elizabeth does sometimes neglect her own needs in place of her work," Teyla agreed.

"That seems to be a common occurrence on Atlantis," D stated dryly, "Given the potential discoveries here, I suppose it's understandable."

"What's this?" Ronon poked at the food with his fork.

"Beef stew," D answered easily, "The meat is from an animal on Earth called a cow, the same as those hamburgers you liked, and it has some vegetables thrown in for flavor."

"You don't want it?" Ronon looked up at her guardedly.

"I have plenty to eat without it," D handed over a spoon, "Try it."

Ronon took the utensil and dug it into the thick stew, scooping a heaping spoonful into his mouth.

"'s good," Ronon mumbled as he began shoveling the stew into his mouth faster.

"I'm glad you like it," D smiled warmly and laid a hand on Ronon's shoulder, still balancing the trays as she leaned close to whisper in his ear.

Ronon paused eating long enough to give her an annoyed grunt and a reluctant nod.

"I should get going," D squeezed Ronon's shoulder gently before releasing him, "Elizabeth has a meeting with a couple of marine biologists in half an hour. I'd like to make sure she eats something before then."

"Please, do not let us keep you," Teyla nodded as D turned to leave, "Enjoy the rest of your day, Dr. Vaughn."

"You too," D called over her shoulder. She picked up two bottles of water from the large table at the entrance of the room, adding them to the trays as she left.

"And she says she's not a secretary," Rodney snorted.

"McKay," John cautioned, "Are you really going to complain that she's taking care of Elizabeth?"

"I'm just saying," Rodney grumbled, "It's weird that someone whose employment history is an alphabet soup of every American intelligence agency is fetching food and organizing supplies. She's over-qualified to be doing this. Even if General O'Neill really wanted her involved in the Stargate program, why would he assign her as Elizabeth's assistant rather than something more suited to her background? Why would she agree to that? Something else has to be going on."

"What do you mean?" John questioned.

"Not our business," Ronon paused in his eating to slide the blue jello over to Rodney, "Here."

"Wait, really?" Rodney brightened, "You almost stabbed me over this two minutes ago and now you're giving it to me?"

"If you don't want it…" Ronon reached for the bowl again.

"No, no, no," Rodney snatched the jello up and dug his spoon in immediately, "I want it."

Ronon smirked and picked up the bowl of stew to drain the last of its contents.

"Are you just giving me the jello so I'll shut up?" Rodney asked, mouth half full of food.

"Yes," Ronon set his empty bowl down.

"That won't always work, you know," Rodney waved his spoonful of blue jello at the taller man.

"Hasn't even worked this time," John drawled.

"You're hilarious," Rodney scowled at him across the table.

"Thanks, Rodney," John smirked, "I like to think so."

As John and Rodney started arguing about who was funnier, Teyla met Ronon's eyes, giving him a small knowing smile as she inclined her head.

_*AM*AM*AM*AM*AM*AM*AM*_

"It was called Project Arcturus," Rodney moved towards the large screen on Elizabeth's wall, "and from what we can tell, its ultimate goal was to render ZedPMs obsolete."

"How?" Elizabeth asked curiously.

"A zero-point module is an artificially created region of subspace-time," Rodney explained, "It's kind of like a miniature universe in a bottle."

"It extracts vacuum energy from this artificial region of subspace-time until it reaches maximum entropy," Zelenka continued.

"So what's different about this thing?" Caldwell questioned.

"Project Arcturus was attempting to extract vacuum energy from our own space-time," Zelenka clarified, "making it potentially as powerful as the scope of the universe itself."

"This strikes me as something the Ancients would've tried first," Caldwell moved to sit in the chair in front of Elizabeth's desk, "even before ZPMs."

"And they may have," Rodney agreed, "but extracting zero-point energy from our own universe is…well, it's definitely trickier."

"Explain 'trickier'," Elizabeth ordered cautiously.

"Because we actually have to live in our own universe," Zelenka replied, "it presents a whole range of problems."

"Well, obviously it's not that easy," Caldwell insisted, "or Atlantis wouldn't still rely on ZPMs."

"You're right," John agreed, "The Ancients couldn't make it work."

"I said I wanted to do all the talking," Rodney protested.

"Come on, Rodney," John looked over to Rodney from his position on the short couch, "Arcturus was a total failure."

"Failure, yes. Total, no," Rodney argued, "Look, the Ancients were losing the war against the Wraith when work on Arcturus began. If they could have made it work it could have turned the tide of war. I mean, we're talking about their own Manhattan Project."

"The Manhattan Project cost two billion dollars, Dr. McKay, which is roughly equivalent to 20 billion dollars today," D moved closer to study the equations on the screen behind him, "Between January 1943 and June 1945, there were sixty-two fatalities and 3,879 disabling injuries."

"What's your point?" Rodney glared at her.

"My point, Dr. McKay," D took the remote from Rodney's hand, clicking it to scroll through the screens steadily, "is that you should take potential risks into consideration as well, not just the potential rewards, especially when contemplating something of this scale."

"Does it say anywhere why was Arcturus tested on Doranda?" Elizabeth asked curiously.

"The outpost was ordered by the Ancients in Atlantis to defend the Dorandan people using their weapons powered by this new power source," John replied as Rodney continued to glower at D.

"Yes," Zelenka agreed cautiously, "but despite their strong reservations that it was not ready to be tested under battle conditions."

"The point is," John continued, "the Wraith won."

"Yeah, but the Dorandans still inflicted massive damage on the attacking Wraith fleet," Rodney insisted.

"While taking out a few Wraith cruisers is an impressive accomplishment," D flicked through several screens of data, pausing on each of the last two, "there is no second place in war."

"They still put up a hell of a fight," John pointed out.

"The logs indicate there was a major malfunction," Zelenka informed them.

"Well yes," Rodney agreed reluctantly, "the Ancients in the bunker were forced to shut everything down, including the weapon."

"The Wraith sent more ships," John made a sweeping gesture, "the Dorandans got wiped out."

"So if the malfunction hadn't occurred," Caldwell wondered, "the Ancients would've saved the planet?"

"Definitely," Rodney said confidently.

"Possibly," John corrected, "Don't sugarcoat this Rodney."

"Has anyone looked at these results yet?" D asked absently, tilting her head as she studied the screen, "There's something…odd about this data."

"What do you mean?" Elizabeth questioned.

D waved the remote at the screen, speaking in a quiet, rapid language that no one understood.

"D," Elizabeth interrupted delicately, "I don't speak whatever that is."

"My apologies, ma'am," D winced as she turned to face Elizabeth, "It was Romanian."

"It's fine," Elizabeth smiled, "Could you explain in English what you meant please?"

"Yes, ma'am," D turned back toward the screen, "The data from the original test firings is inconsistent with Ancients' projections."

"There's nothing odd about that, Dr. Vaughn," Rodney scowled at her, "Scientists often get different results than what they were expecting."

"It's the _way_ the data is inconsistent that I find curious. Given the equations that the Ancients were using were correct," D highlighted a set of equations and text, "even if their original extrapolations were incorrect, there should still be a predictable pattern within the resulting data points. These indicate the test firings had a…rather peculiar randomness to them."

"Maybe there's a pattern there," Rodney scoffed, "and you just can't see it."

"While that is possible, Doctor," D said evenly, turning to face Rodney, "it is highly unlikely."

"These equations, _Doctor_," Rodney spoke deliberately slowly, snatching the remote from D's hand, "are incredibly complex. You can't possibly understand them enough to make any sort of judgment. Especially after looking at them for all of, what, two minutes."

"First of all," D started calmly, "You seem to be under the mistaken impression that you are the only person in this room who can understand complex equations."

"Your PhDs have nothing to do with math or physics," Rodney waved a dismissive hand at her, "You can't-"

"I never said one way or the other whether I believed the equations are correct," D interrupted.

"You said-" Rodney began again.

"My exact words were 'given the equations that the Ancients were using were correct'," D spoke over him, "I am making the _assumption_ that the scientists working on this project had an adequate understanding of advanced math concepts and that they copied their equations correctly into the data logs. You made the same assumption when you speculated the Dorandans were destroyed by the Wraith."

"That's not-" Rodney flushed an irritated red.

"Second of all," D arched an eyebrow at Rodney, "I do not have to fully understand the equations to be able to determine a pattern within the results. As you will remember from your perusal my file, I analyze things for a living. I would not be where I am today if I was unable to recognize a simple pattern, or lack thereof, in this case. Look at the results for yourself, Dr. McKay."

"You are so…" Rodney pointed a finger in D's face, "incredibly _annoying_."

"And you are so hyperopic," D countered, "You are so blinded by the possibilities that you can't see what's in front of your face."

"You can't assume that just because _you_ don't see something," Rodney waved the remote through the air again, "that it isn't there. The data could've been recorded wrong. It could just be your _limited_ understanding of the _extremely_ complex math keeping you from seeing something that you _think_ should be there."

"Rodney, shut up," D put one hand around the skin of Rodney's wrist, pushing his arm down to his side as she put the other hand on his cheek, turning his head to look at the screen, "Look."

"Don't tell me to shut up. You can't just…" Rodney trailed off, narrowing his eyes as he finally studied the highlighted sections, "Huh."

"Do you see?" D asked calmly, dropping her hand from his cheek, "The initial results and again in-"

"Yeah," Rodney gestured to another spot on the screen, "Here too."

Rodney clicked the remote several times, raising his arm with D's fingers still wrapped lightly around his wrist as he brought another set of equations up next to those already highlighted, the scowl on his forehead smoothing out.

"That's what I was trying to tell you," D claimed, "All the results are like that."

"All of them?" Rodney raised his hand to click the remote again and looked down to where D's hand was still holding his arm, "You mind?"

"My apologies, Dr. McKay," D flinched slightly as she released Rodney's wrist.

"Whatever, it's fine," Rodney said dismissively, "Radek, we need to-"

"Yes, yes," Zelenka moved forward to take D's spot in front of the equations, "With the-"

"And this," Rodney pointed again.

"Of course that," Zelenka rolled his eyes, "I am not blind, Rodney."

"What just happened?" Elizabeth asked curiously.

"Drs. McKay and Zelenka will need to double check the Ancients' results before they proceed any further with testing," D informed Elizabeth, her hands now clasped tightly behind her back, "There are a few inconsistencies in the data that should be explained before they attempt to turn on the power source."

"Is the project still viable?" Elizabeth wondered.

"As Dr. McKay said," D stated calmly, "I'm not a math and physics expert. If his team is able to figure out the reason for the odd results, I don't foresee any further issues."

"Well, that's good I suppose," Elizabeth nodded.

"I won't deny that this is something that we'd dearly love to get our hands on," Caldwell agreed, "but the Ancients were a pretty bright bunch. If they weren't able to make it work…"

"They were also desperate and losing a war they'd already been fighting for a hundred years," Rodney turned from the screen to snark at Caldwell, "More importantly, they were – they were, like, this close."

"Do believe you can get these inconsistencies sorted out?" Elizabeth asked seriously.

"I do," Rodney said confidently.

"_We_ do," Zelenka straightened his glasses.

"They do," John gestured to the two of them.

"All right," Elizabeth sat forward in her chair, "Dr. Vaughn, can you make sure they have the resources and personnel they need?"

"Yes, ma'am," D inclined her head, "Lab 27 is a decent size and currently unoccupied. I'll have equipment moved in right away. Drs. McKay and Zelenka can notify any personnel they wish to participate in the project to report there in…" D checked her watch, "…I'd say two hours. That should be enough time to get everything situated."

"Thank you," Elizabeth nodded, "McKay, Zelenka, please let Dr. Vaughn know if you have any additional needs."

"OH!" Rodney clicked his fingers together several times, "Can you get us-"

"One of the new coffee makers will be included in the equipment," D assured him.

"And the-" Zelenka started hopefully.

"The good coffee will be there as well," D said evenly, "As soon as the _Daedalus_ finishes unloading the remainder of our supplies."

"Get started, please," Elizabeth dismissed them all with a grin.


	10. Minimize

Elizabeth slid into her chair at the center of the U-shaped table, "Has your team made any progress?"

"Yes," Rodney answered.

"No," Radek insisted at the same time.

"Which is it, Doctors?" Caldwell questioned, "Can you make it work or not?"

"YES," Rodney glared at Radek.

"NO," Radek returned Rodney's glare.

"Radek," Rodney scowled, "We've been over this."

"Yes, Rodney, we have," Radek agreed, "which is why I said _no_."

Elizabeth sighed when Rodney and Radek started arguing loudly from their seats.

"Maybe we shouldn't have let them have a coffee maker in the lab," John drawled as he leaned back in his chair.

"Obviously not," Caldwell swiped a hand over his forehead, his annoyance clear.

"Neither of them have slept, ma'am," D leaned over to whisper to Elizabeth, "I had food delivered to the lab last night around dinner time, but I don't think they've eaten anything other than that. They're both a bit wired from the lack of sleep and proper nutrition."

"Yes, I see that," Elizabeth looked over to D, "Are you sure they've actually made progress?"

"Some, yes," D nodded, "I wouldn't have scheduled the meeting if they hadn't accomplished anything. From what I understand, they're disagreeing about what the next step should be."

"All right then," Elizabeth turned back to the scientists, "_Gentleman_."

Both men stopped shouting, but they continued to glare at each other.

"Now, one at a time," Elizabeth ordered calmly, "Dr. McKay, what progress has your team made?"

"We figured out why the test results were so random," Rodney gave Radek a smug smirk, "When the Ancients designed the containment bottle, they designed it to automatically compensate for any sudden changes in the energy output from the power source. However, when they actually tested the weapon, there were massive power surges and the containment field couldn't compensate correctly."

"What Dr. McKay is not telling you is that we cannot find the _reason_ for those power surges," Radek frowned, "According to all the data, the device acted exactly as it was supposed to. _No one_ on the team has been able to find _why_ the power surges occurred."

"And I'm telling you," Rodney turned back to Radek, "the problem is in the automatic containment protocols. Now that we've figured that out, there no reason we can't work around the surges."

"You cannot assume that-" Radek started.

"How are you planning to work around _random_ power surges?" Elizabeth cut off the argument before it could be renewed.

"We don't operate the generator at anywhere near its capacity," Rodney explained, "and we adjust the field strength manually. Even operating at fifty percent, it would generate the power of a dozen ZedPMs."

"Why didn't the Ancients do that in the first place?" Caldwell questioned.

"Maybe they were caught up in the heat of battle or maybe they thought they needed as much power as they could get," Rodney gave another smug smile, "Maybe they weren't smart enough."

"And you are?" John asked skeptically.

"No, I didn't say that," Rodney argued, "But I have the benefit of all their records and previous data. They didn't have anything other than their hypothesis."

"I do not believe the power source will be controllable at any level," Radek straightened his glasses.

"Explain please," Elizabeth raised an eyebrow.

"From what we have been able to gather from the records, as power output increases, new and exotic particles are continuously created and destroyed inside the containment chamber, interacting with each other and with the field itself," Radek explained evenly, "Eventually, particles are created that cannot be predicted in this space-time and they breach the containment field as hard radiation. I believe _that_ is what caused the containment issues and _that_ is why the Ancients abandoned the project."

"But as long as I'm monitoring the energy output _manually_," Rodney huffed, "I can stop that before it happens."

"You _cannot_ predict something that is inherently unpredictable," Radek insisted, "I believe the very act of trying to extract vacuum energy from our own space-time creates an environment where the laws of physics cease to apply."

"Even if that were the case," Rodney disagreed, "Operating the generator well below its potential and adjusting the field strength manually will allow us to abort the test at any time."

"Fine," Radek threw his hands up in the air, "Kill yourself, just like the Ancients did!"

"Whoa," John sat forward, "what do you mean by that?"

"I believe if the overload is allowed to continue," Radek said angrily, "the weapon acts as a sort of release valve to prevent catastrophic containment failure. The Ancients barely managed to shut it down and they lost their lives in the process."

"You don't think the Wraith destroyed the planet," Elizabeth said cautiously, "You think it was the weapon?"

"That would explain why the Ancient outpost was the only thing left standing," John spoke thoughtfully.

"Congratulations, you've solved the mystery of how the Ancients screwed up ten thousand years ago," Rodney's frustration was clear, "It doesn't mean that I will do the same. Look, I don't know how else to say this, but none of you are capable of understanding this on the same level that I do. And Zelenka, that includes you."

Radek cursed loudly and pointed an angry finger at Rodney, his face reddening as a stream of heated Czech poured from his mouth.

"Dr. Zelenka," D interrupted, an amused smirk forming on her mouth, "I'm fairly sure most of that is not anatomically possible."

"With him," Radek shook his finger at Rodney a final time, "it might be."

"If Dr. McKay believes he can do this," Caldwell looked to Elizabeth, "Why not at least let him try? I shouldn't have to tell you how many problems this could solve on Earth."

"Or how many problems a weapon like this could _cause_," Elizabeth leaned back in her chair, crossing her arms across her chest.

"But there's more to it, isn't there?" Caldwell argued, "This is a potentially limitless power source. No more hunting for ZPMs. The shield at full strength. Faster, more powerful ships…how about a power source that can provide the energy needs for an entire planet? No more fossil fuels."

"I get it," Elizabeth nodded once, "and _if_ it worked as advertised, it would be wonderful."

"I can make it work," Rodney insisted.

"Best case scenario, Rodney?" John asked calmly.

"I win a Nobel prize," Rodney smirked.

John rolled his eyes, "Worst case scenario?"

"We tear a hole in the fabric of the universe," Rodney continued quickly at John's frown, "Which is much less likely to happen than the Nobel Prize. I mean, look, the risks are nothing compared to the potential benefits."

"Rodney," Elizabeth sighed.

"It is possible to mitigate some of the inherent risk involved, ma'am," D offered quietly.

"You agree with Dr. McKay?" Elizabeth raised an eyebrow at D, "You were the one who pointed out the flawed results in the first place."

"No and yes, ma'am," D inclined her head.

"No and yes?" Elizabeth questioned lightly.

"No, I don't agree with Dr. McKay," D clarified, "and yes, I did point out the flawed results. I'm only here to provide with a neutral assessment, I have no personal opinion on the matter either way."

"And your assessment, Doctor?" Caldwell asked evenly.

"Ma'am?" D inquired, not looking at Caldwell.

"I'd like to hear it," Elizabeth nodded.

"My assessment is that practical testing of the weapon on Doranda should not be allowed at this time," D stated calmly, "As the situation stands now, the potential losses far outweigh the potential gains. Theoretical work on the project should continue until such time as we have a better understanding of the technology, at which time, the issue of practical testing can be revisited."

"Wait a minute," Rodney protested angrily.

"That being said," D continued evenly, "I believe I may be able to offer a solution that will allow Dr. McKay to complete his testing with a minimum of risk to everyone involved."

"What solution?" Rodney narrowed his eyes.

"Ma'am?" D asked politely, ignoring Rodney's interruptions.

"Go ahead," Elizabeth agreed.

"If you limit the number of personnel in the outpost," D looked around the table, "to Drs. McKay and Zelenka, or whichever engineer he prefers, along with no more than two escorts, you can limit the possibility of loss of life to a smaller number. In addition, the _Daedalus_ could remain in orbit around Doranda, ready to beam out the personnel and equipment should something unforeseen happen. Dr. McKay would proceed as planned, operating the generator at less than fifty percent capacity, adjusting the containment field manually while Dr. Zelenka monitors the system closely for surges. Atlantis could establish a wormhole to the gate in orbit above the planet and, with the shield in place, monitor the test firing remotely."

"See?" Rodney turned back to Elizabeth, "Risks lessened. Everyone gets what they want."

"McKay," John scolded.

"This is big, Elizabeth," Rodney ignored John's warning, "Big like…the wheel, the light bulb…the hot dog big."

"Would you be willing to delay your return trip to Earth for another day, Colonel Caldwell?" Elizabeth asked cautiously.

"I can do that," Caldwell agreed easily.

"Dr. Zelenka," Elizabeth turned to him, "Are you willing to participate in the test, despite your misgivings?"

"With these precautions," Radek glanced to Rodney, "and the promise that Rodney will shut down the generator if problems occur, yes."

"At the first sign of trouble," Rodney agreed eagerly.

"I'll go with them," John offered, "Make sure he does."

"All right," Elizabeth decided, "I'll allow the test."

"You won't regret this, Elizabeth," Rodney grinned, "It's going to work."

"While your confidence is very inspiring, Rodney," Elizabeth stood, "I still want you to be careful. I can't afford to lose any of you."

"We'll take a jumper and make the preparations," John looked to Caldwell as everyone stood, "Meet you there."

"Of course, Colonel," Caldwell agreed as the room emptied.

After everyone else left the room, Elizabeth turned back to D, "If you don't think the testing should continue, why did you come up with a way for them to do it anyway?"

"It's my job," D shrugged.

"Really?" Elizabeth raised an eyebrow.

"Because while I do not currently have faith in Dr. McKay or Dr. Zelenka's abilities to make this work," D ducked her head to look at the floor, "you do and I have faith in your judgment. I thought, despite your protests, you wanted the project to continue just as much as anyone. I apologize if that was not the case and I over-stepped my bounds, ma'am."

"You don't have to apologize, D," Elizabeth reached over to brush a hand down D's arm, "I'm not going to punish you for voicing your opinion. You're not going to get in trouble for offering help. I told you I wanted honesty from you; that means even if we disagree on something."

"I…" D looked up at Elizabeth, "I'm not…This is…"

"And even though you were right this time," Elizabeth smiled wryly, "I'm not infallible. You don't have to do something just because I want it done."

"This would've all been so much easier," D muttered in annoyance, "if either you or Jack had given me an identity before I got here. Then I'd know how I'm supposed to act, who I'm supposed to be here."

"Then we would be no better than the people you worked for before," Elizabeth said gently.

"I'm finding this somewhat difficult, Elizabeth," D admitted quietly, "This place…these people…I'm not used to being…safe…relatively at least. I don't know how to be…_me_."

"If you're looking for more excitement, D," Elizabeth grinned, "you can always start spending time in the explosives lab."

"Or the microbiology lab," D deadpanned, "I hear they're doing exciting things with cell cultures down there."

"Or I could assign you to one of the gate teams," Elizabeth collected her PDA from the table, "I hear Stackhouse's team ran into a rather large bear-like creature on their last mission."

"I believe Sgt. Stackhouse used the words 'really fucking big and really fucking violent koalas with ugly-ass crocodile teeth that are _extremely_ sharp' in his initial report, ma'am," D said dryly, "Major Lorne made him change the description to something more IOA appropriate before he would sign off on the final report."

"See?" Elizabeth laughed, "All kinds of excitement, just waiting to be had."

"I think I can manage without evil koalas, ma'am," D rolled her eyes, "I'll be fine here in the City. If I need more excitement, I can play another round of 'touch this random object and see if it lights up' with the engineers."

"Or hide from them," Elizabeth raised an eyebrow, "by pretending to do paperwork in my office…behind my desk."

"I do not _hide_ from anyone," D grabbed her tablet from the table, "It's called strategic concealment."

"If that's what you want to call it," Elizabeth shrugged and grinned as she left the room.


	11. Complicated

"So," Elizabeth looked at the three sheepish faces in her office, "What went wrong?"

"We're still analyzing the data," Rodney replied, "At least, the data we were able to save before…"

"Before you blew up a solar system," Elizabeth finished evenly.

"And my jumper," John added petulantly.

"More like three quarters of a solar system," Radek corrected.

"Oh, please," Rodney huffed, "If you want to get technical about it, it was five-sixths of a solar system."

"I think you're missing the point here, Rodney," Elizabeth crossed her arms across her chest, "What happened to shutting the test down at the first sign of trouble?"

"They did try to shut it down, Elizabeth," John looked over to Rodney and Radek.

"When I realized that I wasn't able to control the containment field," Rodney explained, "I ordered Zelenka to shut the system down."

"And I tried," Radek continued, "But I was unable to do so. Both the primary and backup systems were unresponsive. The weapon started firing at random targets above the planet to prevent an overload."

"The _Daedalus_ took a couple hits," Caldwell informed her, "But the shields held and there was no real damage."

"When I realized that there was nothing else we could do," Rodney gestured to Caldwell, "The _Daedalus_ beamed us and as much of the equipment up as we could before they jumped to hyperspace."

"I think the important thing is, thanks to the extra precautions, no one got hurt or worse," John drawled, "even if Rodney did blow up a solar system…and _my jumper_."

"It wasn't all my fault," Rodney protested.

"I'm not blaming anyone," Elizabeth assured him, "I'm just trying to understand what happened so we can avoid mistakes like this in the future. How much of the experiment data were you able to save?"

"Everything until we were beamed out," Rodney replied, "and we have the _Daedalus' _sensor readings until they jumped into hyperspace."

"We could've had the jumper's reading too," John said blandly, shoving his hands in his pockets, "If someone hadn't _blown it up_ along with the majority of a solar system."

"Enough with the stupid jumper already," Rodney threw his hands into the air, "I'm sorry, all right?"

"Each of the puddle-jumpers form a mental bond with a specific pilot," D said absent-mindedly, typing away on a tablet, "With the strength of Colonel Sheppard's gene, and the fact the he was previously a pilot on Earth, not just a pilot because of the gene, it's not surprising he's upset about the loss."

"_What_ are you babbling about?" Rodney whirled around to face D.

D stopped typing abruptly and looked up to see everyone staring at her.

"_Dixi quia ex magna_," D winced as she looked at Elizabeth, "_n__onne ego_?" [Latin: I said that out-loud, didn't I?]

"Yes, you did," Elizabeth nodded, "And not to get too side-tracked here, but what did you mean 'mental bond'?"

"It's in the Ancient database," D started hesitantly, looking between Elizabeth and John, "Haven't any of you wondered why the gate teams always choose the same jumper for their missions? Or why they always have the same pilot, even if more than one person on the team has the gene, as is the case with AR-1?"

"I fly because McKay is terrible at it," John drawled.

"According to the database," D stated evenly, "anyone other than the first person to fly the jumper would have trouble, unless the original pilot hasn't flown for an extended amount of time or the jumper's interface is reset for whatever reason. The jumper takes a neural imprint of the pilot when they initially connect and that pattern is integrated into the jumper's controls in order to better facilitate interactions. Obviously, no two people have the same neural imprint so unless the next person to fly can copy the original pilot's thought process exactly, they're going to have trouble flying that particular jumper."

"You found the section in the database about the jumpers?" Rodney asked skeptically.

"No," D answered steadily, "I found the section of the database about the neural interface used in the majority of Ancient tech, including the jumpers."

Radek's jaw dropped, "You found the section about the MTI?"

"And you didn't tell anyone?" Rodney exclaimed.

"What's the MTI?" John asked curiously.

"The Mind-Tech Interface, it's what we call the mental component in Ancient tech," Rodney said impatiently, giving John a short glare for interrupting, "How did you find it?"

"The database has a search function," D stated calmly, "I was looking over past mission reports as part of my research and I got curious about the neural interface with the jumpers so I looked it up. It's actually quite an interesting concept."

"You found a _search function_?" Rodney gaped.

"Yes," D drew out the word as she looked around the room at the mostly shocked faces, "You didn't know it existed?"

"Let me get this straight," Rodney's face flushed with anger as his voice grew louder, "You realized that the ten thousand year old Ancient database has a _search function_ and used that to find a particular section pertaining to what is possibly the most complicated parts of Ancient technology _and you DIDN'T TELL ANYONE_?"

"I haven't finished reading it yet," D looked to Elizabeth, tilting her head to the side, "I was going to write a report tomorrow night when I has some free time. Was I supposed to tell someone before I finished?"

"Of course you were supposed to tell us, you idiot!" Rodney shouted angrily, moving closer to D, "Do you have any idea how big of a find that is? _No one_ has been able to figure out how the Ancients were able to integrate a mental component into their technology and you've been sitting on the section of the database that _explains it all_. Even the _morons_ that work for me know enough to tell someone they've found something that could _answer all of our questions_. I thought you were supposed to be smarter than them. What good are you if you can't even do the simplest things without explicit instructions?"

John looked over to D and saw her eyes darkening from pale gray to nearly black, her hands tightening around the tablet she held. Although she held Rodney's stare, her face was completely devoid of any emotion.

"Enough, Rodney," John cautioned, "It's not a big deal."

"It is a _very big deal_," Rodney started waving his hands through the air, taking another step closer to D, "You have to be a special kind of stupid not to think that something as important as _the reason Ancient tech works with your mind_ is not worth mentioning immediately. Who knows what else she found and hasn't told us about?"

"Dr. McKay," D's normally raspy voice grew even hoarser, "Step back. Now."

Rodney didn't listen, instead taking another step forward. There was a quiet crack as Rodney continued yelling, "What else did you manage to look up using the _search function_ that you _also_ neglected to tell anyone about? Did you find more ZedPMs in the database? The location of secret Ancient outposts? How about information that could defeat the Wraith?"

D took half a step closer to Rodney, her left hand releasing the tablet to move toward her waist.

"Stop," Elizabeth ordered, stepping between them to look directly at D.

"I can't believe this," Rodney scoffed loudly, "What are you, some kind of child? You need someone to-"

"That's _enough_, Dr. McKay," Elizabeth commanded Rodney without looking at him.

"_Movere_," D directed evenly. [Latin: Move.]

"But-" Rodney protested.

"Shut up, Rodney," John said harshly.

"Dr. Weir," D growled, "_Exire ex viam_." [Latin: Get out of the way.]

"No," Elizabeth straightened, her voice steady, "_Cessare_." [Latin: Stop.]

D's hand dropped to her side and she took an immediate step back from Elizabeth, blinking rapidly as she looked over Elizabeth's shoulder to Rodney.

"_Domina_," D's voice was completely flat as she ducked her head, chin nearly touching her chest, "I apologize for my behavior. I should have realized the importance of sharing the intelligence I gathered. If you wish, I'll stay out of the Ancient database in the future." [Latin: Master]

"That's not necessary, Dr. Vaughn," Elizabeth said calmly, reaching a hand over to the younger woman, "You've done noth-"

Elizabeth froze when D recoiled away from Elizabeth's outstretched hand then stepped forward again, keeping her head down and bracing her body.

"D," Elizabeth spoke calmly, "Look up at me."

D raised her head slowly, but kept her eyes centered on Elizabeth's chest instead of her face.

"Do you want to go?" Elizabeth asked quietly.

"Do you want me to leave, _Domina_?" D questioned evenly.

"It's not an order," Elizabeth insisted softly, "I am asking you if you want to leave the room."

D looked between Rodney's angry face and Elizabeth's calm one several times.

"_Comminatio ille est non_," D replied unsurely. [Latin: He is not a threat.]

"No," Elizabeth shook her head, "He's not."

D closed her eyes and took a deep breath, "And you're not them."

"I'm not," Elizabeth reached over to squeeze D's arm gently.

"I think I'd like to leave, if that's okay," D finally met Elizabeth's eyes, "It's probably better if I go do something…else."

"Go ahead," Elizabeth released D's arm, "Call me if you need anything."

"Here," D gave Elizabeth the tablet she was still holding, "the latest security reports and the updated gate schedule. I was in the middle of making sure everything was in order."

"We can go over it tomorrow," Elizabeth nodded.

"And I'll have that report on the MTI section of the database in Dr. McKay's inbox in two hours," D carefully avoided Rodney's annoyed stare, "as well as instructions on how to use the search function."

"Tomorrow morning is fine," Elizabeth insisted, "and that part _is_ an order."

"Yes, ma'am," D inclined her head as turned to leave, "_I__l faudra que vous donniez une explication au soldat_." [French: You have to do something to explain to the soldier.]

"I will," Elizabeth agreed as D waved a hand over the crystals to open the door. The door slid closed behind her and Elizabeth looked up at Caldwell, "Colonel, will you make sure the _Daedalus_' sensor readings are transferred to our network before you head back to Earth?"

"Should already be done," Caldwell nodded, "But I'll double check when I head back to the ship."

"Leaving right away?" Elizabeth questioned.

"Just as soon as the shields are recharged," Caldwell agreed.

"Don't let me keep you then," Elizabeth said politely.

Caldwell gave Elizabeth a final thoughtful look and left her office without another word.

"Dr. McKay," Elizabeth fixed him with a hard stare, "I'd like you and Dr. Zelenka to continue to go over the accident data. I want a preliminary report on my desk by the end of the day."

"What about the MTI?" Rodney protested, "Understanding that could help-"

"No," Elizabeth said firmly.

"But Dr. Vaughn-" Rodney started.

"Rodney," Elizabeth straightened, "Let me make this very clear. You are not to contact Dr. Vaughn in any way until tomorrow morning at 0900. Is that understood?"

"But Elizabeth-" Rodney objected.

"That includes sending someone else to talk to her," Elizabeth added, "Report on my desk by 2300. Go."

"Let's go, Rodney," Radek left quietly, a disgruntled Rodney following behind him.

Elizabeth let out a shaky breath as she set the tablet down on the corner of her desk. John looked down and saw a slim crack running down the center, words flickering in and out on the electronic screen.

"You want to tell me what just happened?" John asked cautiously.

"It's…complicated," Elizabeth sighed as she leaned back on her desk.

"I knew this kid in middle school," John moved to lean next to Elizabeth, "named Bobby. He was a skinny little thing, lots of freckles. Always really quiet, kept to himself, wore long sleeve shirts and jeans, no matter how hot it was. One day, some idiots decided it would be fun to try to duct tape Bobby to the flag pole. It didn't work out very well for them. Turns out, Bobby's parents were beating the crap out of him and that was the day Bobby decided he wasn't going to take it anymore. He fought back and three of the boys ended up in the hospital."

"That's very sad story, John," Elizabeth hesitated, "But it's not-"

"Exactly how close did McKay just get to ending up in the infirmary?" John held up the cracked tablet.

"If anyone other than me had stepped between them," Elizabeth gripped the desk behind her tightly, "Carson would be extremely busy right now."

"She thought you were going to hurt her," John set the tablet back down, "and she was going to let you, because she thought disobeyed you. That's why she winces every time she thinks she's done something wrong, why she always sits with her back to the wall, why she understands Ronon; because she's running away."

"Yes," Elizabeth agreed sadly.

"General O'Neill didn't pick her randomly, did he?" John wondered.

"No," Elizabeth looked up at John, "he didn't."

"How bad?" John questioned.

"If they find her, killing her would be a mercy," Elizabeth said seriously.

"Who's 'they'?" John asked carefully.

"I can't tell you that," Elizabeth shook her head, "But I can tell you this; the people after her have a very long reach and they are incredibly dangerous."

"Anything else I need to know?" John crossed his arms across his chest.

"If something like this happens," Elizabeth made a vague gesture at the room, "and I'm not around, you need to come find me. Don't let anyone touch her and under no circumstances point a gun in her direction."

"And what happens if someone does?" John narrowed his eyes.

"Carson will be extremely busy," Elizabeth answered evenly, "And John? I'd appreciate it if you kept this information to yourself."

"Not my business," John shrugged.

* * *

Special thanks to reader LillyD11 for helping me with the French translations!


	12. Happened

Ronon opened the door to his quarters to see D standing outside, her back rigidly straight as she shifted from foot to foot. She was out of her base uniform for once, instead wearing a slim black tank top that left most of her perfectly sculpted shoulders and arms bare and a pair of black pants that hit her mid-calf, the fabric stretching taut over shapely legs. She wore a dark pair of running shoes on her feet, the laces pulled tight and tucked into the tops. Her long burgundy hair was pulled back in a high messy ponytail, pieces escaping their bindings to trail around her face and neck.

"Hi," D looked up at him nervously.

"Hi," Ronon crossed his arms across chest.

"Look, I know you just got back an hour ago," D started timidly, "and you've been gone for two days with Teyla but I was…I need…"

"What's wrong?" Ronon narrowed his eyes at her.

"I don't know how to be here with these people and not hurt anyone," the words spilled from her mouth as D clenched and unclenched her fists, "I've only been here for two months and it's the longest I've ever gone without…without…I almost killed Dr. McKay today in the middle of Elizabeth's office. He was yelling and he stepped forward and _somehow_ I saw him as a threat so my training took over. I don't even know how it happened. McKay yells at _everyone_. I've been yelled at before and it was fine. If Dr. Weir hadn't stepped in front of me, I would have slit his throat open."

"What do you need?" Ronon asked quietly, his expression softening.

"I've already run for two hours," D took a deep breath, "and I did some tai-chi but neither really helped. I was going to the gym to hit a bag for a while to see if that would make a difference, but there are people in there. I need to expend the rest of my energy so I don't accidently do something to hurt someone."

"We'll go spar," Ronon stepped out into the hall, letting the door close behind him.

"Ronon," D looked up at him seriously, "Right now, I can't guarantee I can hold back enough not to kill you. You could get hurt, badly."

"Come on," Ronon took her hand in his and pulled her towards the transporter, "It'll be fun."

_*AM*AM*AM*AM*AM*AM*AM*_

"What the bloody hell happened to you two?" Carson exclaimed as Ronon and D came into the infirmary.

Both of them were drenched in sweat and sporting lots of small, colorful bruises, Ronon bare-chested with his arm slung happily over D's shoulders as she helped him walk towards the nearest gurney. Ronon had a large gash on his cheekbone, surrounded by an already purple bruise, blood dripping down his face and neck. D stepped back when Ronon dropped his arm and Carson saw mottled bruising blossoming on her right shoulder, stretching across her chest until it disappeared under her shirt.

D grinned at Ronon, "I kicked him in the face."

"And you?" Carson frowned at D.

"What about me?" D tilted her head to the side.

"Your shoulder," Ronon snorted.

"Oh," D looked down at the bruising, "It was dislocated but I put it back."

"By yourself?" Carson's frown deepened.

"Well, yes," D looked back up to Carson, "because Ronon was unconscious on the floor."

"You were unconscious?" Carson turned back to Ronon, "For how long?"

"Less than a minute," D answered for him.

"You knocked him out?" Carson looked between the two of them.

"I told you I kicked him in the face," D shrugged her uninjured shoulder.

"You cheated," Ronon grunted.

"You dislocated my shoulder," D put her hands on her hips, "What did you expect me to do after that?"

"I still won," Ronon insisted.

D snorted, "If you say so."

"I did," Ronon smiled widely.

"Keep telling yourself that," D smirked.

"Oh, good lord," Carson rolled his eyes, "You're children. Violent children."

"Sorry, Dr. Beckett," D tipped her head down, but the smirk remained firm, "I'll leave so you can stitch Ronon's face."

"You most certainly will not," Carson pointed a finger at the nearest gurney, "You're going to sit there until I can scan your shoulder and make sure you didn't damage it too badly."

"It doesn't even really hurt, Carson," D shook her head, "It'll fine in a couple days."

"D," Carson narrowed his eyes at her, "Sit down."

"But-" D protested.

"Sit," Carson repeated.

D pouted for a second then hopped up onto the gurney, glaring at Carson's back as he went to retrieve a suture kit and gloves from a nearby cabinet.

"If I ask a nurse to come help me," Carson set the supplies down on a tray between the two gurneys, "are you two going to behave yourselves?"

Ronon exchanged a quick look with D.

"Nurse Ko is on-call tonight, right?" D asked carefully, "Is she here or somewhere else?"

Carson reached up to tap his earpiece, "Marie, would you come to the infirmary please? I've a couple of _difficult_ patients I could use your help with. Thank you, dear."

"You didn't have to call her in," D said quietly, "Any nurse would've been fine."

"She was on-call anyway," Carson snapped a pair of gloves on, "And if having her come in means you'll both cooperate, it's worth it. Now," Carson gestured for Ronon to lay down, "which one of you wants to explain why you were fighting?"

_*AM*AM*AM*AM*AM*AM*AM*_

"What happened to your face, big guy?" John set his breakfast tray on the table.

Ronon stopped chewing just long enough to answer, "Foot."

"A foot happened to your face?" John asked curiously.

"It is not just his face that is injured," Teyla gave Ronon a stern look.

"Okay," John sipped his coffee, "How'd you get hurt?"

"Fighting," Ronon stuffed more bacon in his mouth.

"Dr. Beckett called me to the infirmary late yesterday evening," Teyla explained calmly, "so I could help Ronon to his room. He has six stitches in his cheek, a hairline fracture of the cheekbone, a mild concussion, and many other bruises. Carson wanted to keep him overnight for observation, but Ronon protested, so I was called to watch him during the night. He is supposed to be on light duty for the next four days. While Carson apparently received an adequate explanation for the injuries, I have yet to hear the entire story."

"What happened to you?" Rodney thunked his tray onto the table as he slouched down into the last chair.

"We were just discussing that," John replied, "Ronon says it was a foot."

"With a shoe," Ronon added.

"A foot?" Rodney paused with his fork halfway to his mouth, "You're like…a giant. How did someone get their foot up to your face?"

"Jumped," Ronon looked thoughtful for a minute before he grinned widely, "Kinda."

"Someone 'kinda jumped' high enough to kick you in the face?" Rodney asked doubtfully.

"Don't remember exactly," Ronon shrugged, "Knocked me out."

"Wait," John sat forward, "Someone kicked you hard enough to _knock you out_? Who?"

"The person I was sparring with," Ronon scowled at the three surprised faces around the table, "What's the big deal?"

"You're…" Rodney made a gesture encompassing Ronon's entire body, "you."

"I believe what Rodney is trying to say," Teyla said patiently, "is that because of your size and abilities, we are having difficulty understanding how you came to be so injured."

"Yeah," John agreed, "I didn't think there was anyone on base who could beat you. It's weird."

"I didn't get beat," Ronon insisted, "I won."

"If that's what winning looks like," Rodney snorted, "I'd hate to see the other guy."

Ronon scowled as he stole one of Rodney's pancakes, shoving most of it into his mouth.

"Hey!" Rodney protested, moving his tray further away from Ronon, "You have your own. Don't steal my breakfast."

"Ronon," Teyla sighed, "You have plenty of food on your own plate. There is no reason to take Rodney's."

"His looked better," Ronon shrugged.

_*AM*AM*AM*AM*AM*AM*AM*_

"Good morning, Dr. Weir," D held out a cup of steaming coffee as Elizabeth came into her office

"Good morning," Elizabeth accepted the cup gratefully, "What's on the agenda for today?"

"You have a debriefing with AR-3 in fifteen minutes," D handed one of the tablets she held to Elizabeth, "They returned from M6G-301 on schedule and should be out of the infirmary momentarily. The team was laughing when they returned, so I assume that everything went relatively smoothly."

"Okay," Elizabeth sipped her coffee as she scanned the tablet, "After that?"

"At 0800 you're scheduled to meet with AR-6," D reached up to scratch her right collarbone, "about their upcoming mission to M42-897."

"That's the planet with the faux-corn, right?" Elizabeth asked curiously.

"Yes, ma'am," D nodded, "They are ready to finalize the trade agreement, Lt. Young just needs your final approval."

"Has anything changed since the last time I spoke with them?" Elizabeth wondered.

"The inhabitants of 897 are requesting we send a medical team there every thirty-eight cycles," D pressed a hand to her collarbone again, "in addition to the harvest manpower you've already agreed to. Thirty-eight cycles on 897 is roughly equivalent to every twenty-nine days on this planet."

"Remind me to talk to Carson before the meeting," Elizabeth nodded, "I want to check with him before I sign off on that."

"Yes, ma'am," D continued speaking as she typed, "After the meeting with AR-6, we need to go over the revised gate schedule so you can approve it. There is also a new set of requisition forms waiting in your inbox. I didn't see anything problematic except for the botany department."

"The bees again?" Elizabeth sighed wearily, setting the tablet down on her desk.

"Yes, ma'am," D smirked, scratching her shoulder again, "Only this time the form is countersigned by the astrobiology department and by food services. It's becoming more of a petition than a requisition at this point."

"Please schedule a meeting as soon as possible," Elizabeth rolled her eyes, "with the heads of those departments so I can explain to them _again_ why we can't have bees on Atlantis."

"You have an hour at 1530. I'll contact the appropriate people of them to let them know," D consulted her tablet, "At 1100, you have a meeting with First Sergeant Stiles to go over the latest security reports. You should know, there was an incident with the still in engineering."

"It didn't explode again," Elizabeth asked cautiously, "did it?"

"No, ma'am," D shook her head, "But First Sgt. Stiles was unware of its existence and the 'as long as no one gets hurt, it's fine' policy regarding alcohol within the City. He made them take it down. The engineers were quite upset they had to throw out the latest batch when they disassembled everything; supposedly it was one of the best distillations yet."

"I'll think of something to tell Stiles," Elizabeth waved a hand, "and I'll stop by the engineering lab later today to speak with Radek about moving the still somewhere less conspicuous. What else?"

"Lt. Cadman has requested that you come to the explosives lab so her team can demonstrate their newest innovation. I believe they've managed to come up with a viable combination of existing explosives and the plants from M4G-610 that the botany department has been cultivating," D scratched again, "There's half an hour at 1300, if you want to do that today."

"As long as you're not going to complain about me not eating lunch," Elizabeth smiled around the rim of her coffee cup, "that's fine."

"Lunch is scheduled at 1215, Elizabeth," D didn't bother to look up from her tablet, "Dinner is scheduled at 1830."

"You _scheduled_ time for my meals," Elizabeth said blandly.

"I assumed that was the only way to make sure you ate more than once a day," D raised an eyebrow as she looked up at Elizabeth, "I spoke to the kitchen staff about setting a tray aside for you at both times so you can either eat in the mess or your office, whichever you prefer."

Elizabeth rolled her eyes, "Anything else I need to know before then?"

"My report on the MTI is in your inbox," D gestured towards Elizabeth's tablet, "and Dr. McKay's as well. I also wrote a simple instruction manual for using the database search system, but it's only useful if you read and write semi-fluent Ancient. I didn't get a chance to figure out how to make it translate into any other languages."

"You think you can get the database to translate from Ancient?" Elizabeth wondered curiously.

"From my understanding," D pressed a hand to her shoulder and winced, "the holographic projection room can already translate most languages in real time, the same way the gate does. However, that system requires an exorbitant amount of power, so using it for daily tasks is obviously out of the question. If I had the time to study the technology in that room, and a better understanding of Ancient coding, I might be able to create some sort of rudimentary program for translating information from the database."

"That might be worth looking into," Elizabeth narrowed her eyes, "What happened to your arm?"

"Carson's making me wear a shoulder brace," D half-whined as she scratched again, "It's extremely uncomfortable and it itches like mad."

"Why is Carson making you wear a brace?" Elizabeth questioned.

"Because Ronon dislocated my shoulder yesterday," D huffed, "And I refused to wear a sling."

"Ronon did _what_?" Elizabeth asked incredulously.

"I put it back," D continued quickly, "and unless Carson _completely_ neglected to read my medical file, he knows very well my body will heal itself without this ridiculous thing holding my shoulder still. I think he's trying to prove a point by making me wear it."

"D," Elizabeth spoke slowly, "Why did Ronon dislocate your shoulder?"

"Because I punched him in the gut," D answered evenly, "and didn't move away fast enough."

"Why did…" Elizabeth sighed and shook her head, "You know what? Never mind, I don't really need to know. Just…try _not_ to kill each other, okay?"

"We'll try, ma'am," D bit back a smile.


	13. Outlet

Rodney yelled as he stomped across the control room, "You!"

"Me?" the gate technician looked up suddenly.

"Not you," Rodney waved a dismissive hand at the man as he walked past.

"Something I can help you with, Dr. McKay?" D asked evenly, not bothering to look up from her laptop.

"What is this?" Rodney shook his tablet at her.

"A hand-held touch-screen computer," D answered evenly, "Also known as a data pad or a tablet."

"Oh, ha ha," Rodney scowled, "very funny. That's _not_ what I meant."

"I wasn't trying to be funny. If you want a different answer," D stopped typing to look up at Rodney, "Maybe you should ask a different question."

"Your report," Rodney stabbed a finger onto the tablet, bringing up a large section of text, "It's in a different language."

"Three actually," D corrected.

"Oh, _excuse me_," Rodney rolled his eyes, "Three languages."

D turned back to her laptop and resumed typing.

"_Well_?" Rodney asked impatiently.

"Well, what?" D prompted.

"What am I supposed to do with this?" Rodney asked through a clenched jaw.

"I'd recommend reading it," D stated, "Either now or later, whichever is more convenient for you."

"_How_ am I supposed to read this?" Rodney questioned loudly.

"Since the report is not in braille," D glanced at the tablet, "I'd suggest using your eyes."

"What language – _languages_," Rodney shook the tablet at her again, "is this report written in?"

"The sections to do with math are in Romanian," D answered calmly, "the sections to do with technology are in Japanese, and the sections to do with neurobiology are in Greek."

"What…why are…you did…" Rodney spluttered, "_What_?"

"Was that all you needed, Dr. McKay?" D questioned, "I'm in the middle of something here."

"_Why_ is your report in Romanian, Japanese, and Greek?" Rodney shouted.

"My math tutor was Romanian," D responded calmly, "and my biology tutor was Greek."

"And the Japanese?" Rodney asked incredulously.

"I was bored," D said lazily.

Rodney's jaw dropped and he stared at D for a full minute before he yelled, "You wrote your report in three different languages _because_ _you were_ _bored_?"

"Only the Japanese part," D stood and clasped her hands behind her back as Elizabeth emerged from her office.

"Is there a problem here?" Elizabeth asked carefully.

"This!" Rodney shoved the tablet towards Elizabeth, "This is the problem. How am I supposed to read this ridiculous excuse of a report if it's in three different languages because _Dr. I-Speak-every-language-known-to-mankind_ got bored?"

"Don't be ridiculous, Dr. McKay," D chided, "There are close to six thousand languages spoken on Earth alone. I only speak forty. That's less than one percent of the-"

"I don't _care_," Rodney bellowed, "how many languages there are or how many you speak or what percentage that is. I can't read this report if it's in some bizarre language."

"Calm down, Rodney," Elizabeth commanded, "What report?"

"On the MTI," Rodney's face reddened, "What else would I be talking about?"

"My copy of the report was in English," Elizabeth looked to D curiously.

"I translated yours, ma'am," D replied easily.

The vein in Rodney's temple started throbbing as he glared at D, "_Why would you_ _only translate Elizabeth's copy_?"

"I didn't feel like translating both of them," D shrugged.

"Dr. Vaughn," Elizabeth chastised, "Please give Rodney a copy of the report _in English_."

"If you insist, ma'am," D took the tablet from Rodney and tapped several keys, "Here you are, Dr. McKay."

"If that was all it took," Rodney snatched the tablet back, "Why didn't you just do that when I got here?"

"Because I was bored," D gave Rodney a predatory smile, "And seeing you react to irritation alleviated some of that boredom. I can actually _see_ how fast your blood pressure is rising. You get this little vein, right there," D gestured to his temple, "that starts throbbing when your pulse hits a hundred. You _really_ should cut back on the sodium in your diet. It's not healthy for you."

The technician Rodney had dismissed earlier snickered loudly, quickly looking back to his work when Rodney turned to glare at him furiously.

"In the future, Dr. Vaughn," Elizabeth spoke diplomatically, "Would you please try to find another way to alleviate your boredom?"

"I'll try, ma'am," D inclined her head, clearing the smile from her face, "If you're done with the requisition forms, we can go over the gate schedule now."

"I just finished," Elizabeth nodded, "I was just going to grab another cup of coffee before we started."

"I'll get it," D stepped past Rodney to head down the stairs, "Let me know if you need help understanding my report, Dr. McKay. There's lots of really big words that you may have trouble comprehending."

"Two syllables don't count as big words, Dr. Vaughn," Rodney yelled after her angrily.

"Let it go, Rodney," Elizabeth ordered easily.

"That…_woman_," Rodney glared at the stairs where D had been, "gave me a report in three different languages just because she wanted to annoy me."

"Apparently," Elizabeth sighed and turned back to her office, "She has developed a bit of a vindictive streak."

_*AM*AM*AM*AM*AM*AM*AM*_

"Any idea why Rodney's been slamming things around all day?" John slid into the chair next to Elizabeth, stealing a carrot from her salad, "Or why he's been yelling at his minions more than usual? Zelenka says he made four people cry before lunch."

"I'd better go finish that-" D started to stand.

"Sit," Elizabeth ordered, "You've finished everything for the next two days, Dr. Vaughn. Would you like to answer the Colonel's question?"

"Not particularly, ma'am," D shook her head as she settled back into her chair.

"What happened?" John looked between Elizabeth and D.

"D," Elizabeth raised an eyebrow.

D smiled politely, "Dr. McKay is an egotistical, condescending jackass with poor social skills?"

Elizabeth gave D a hard stare and D sighed, mumbling under her breath in clipped Russian before she straightened in her chair.

"It was suggested to me," D stated flatly, "that I should find a healthier outlet for my anger than the last method I employed. I was annoyed with Dr. McKay because he managed to trigger me yesterday so I decided to get even with him in a non-violent, yet still satisfying manner. I wrote my report on the MTI in three different languages, knowing full well that he didn't understand any of them."

"And?" Elizabeth prompted.

"And when he came to confront me about it in the control room," D continued her recitation, "I antagonized him further by being deliberately obtuse in my responses. Also, before I left I insulted his ego by implying he wouldn't understand the words in the report even if it _was_ in English."

"Yeah," John drawled, "That'd do it."

"In my defense," D huffed, "I didn't think he'd make that big of a fuss in the middle of the control room. It could've been much worse, you know. I originally decided on breaking into his lab and rotating everything ninety degrees to the left, but I didn't have enough time to do that and finish the instructions on the database searches. Besides," D looked down at her tray and poked at the remains of her dinner with a fork, "he started it."

"Well, someone needs to finish it," John slung an arm over the back of Elizabeth's chair as he stretched out, "'cause I'm pretty sure the scientists are about ten minutes away from forming a lynch mob."

D's eyes snapped up to Elizabeth and her fork clattered onto her tray, "No."

"I didn't say anything," Elizabeth said evenly.

"I will not apologize to that man after he called me an idiot," D insisted, "It was this or punch him in the face repeatedly; which did you prefer?"

"Neither is really an appropriate response," Elizabeth took a sip of water.

"So I'm supposed to let him insult me without any consequences?" D protested, "That hardly seems fair."

"Maybe you should try talking to him about it," Elizabeth suggested calmly.

"Why can't the Colonel deal with him?" D waved her hand at John, "He actually _likes _McKay. Let Sheppard talk him down."

"I tried before I came here," John shook his head, "Zelenka radioed me when Rodney threatened to erase Dr. Garner's hard drives because she was breathing too loudly."

"See?" D pointed a finger at John, "Colonel Sheppard couldn't deal with him and they're _friends_. What do you expect me to do?"

"Talk to Rodney," Elizabeth advised, "I'm sure the two of you can work something out."

"Did you not hear the part about his poor social skills?" D complained, "You know very well that mine aren't any better. What is talking to him going to accomplish?"

"Think of it as a chance for you," Elizabeth held up a hand in warning as D opened her mouth to protest again, "for _both_ of you to practice those social skills."

"Elizabeth," D almost whined, "Please."

"I can make it an order," Elizabeth raised an eyebrow, "if you'd prefer, Dr. Vaughn."

"Fine," D scowled as she stood, "But don't blame me when he says something rude and ends up perforated."

"I'm confident you'll be able to restrain yourself," Elizabeth said dryly.

"We'll see, ma'am," D mumbled as she left with her tray.

"You sure that was a good idea?" John questioned warily.

"Neither of them are going anywhere," Elizabeth leaned back against John's arm, "and I'm not going play referee all the time. They'll have to figure out how to deal with each other eventually and I'd prefer they do it sooner rather than later."

"Okay," John agreed cautiously, "But…_perforated_?"

"I don't think she'll actually hurt Rodney," Elizabeth assured him.

"You thought she was going to yesterday," John reminded her.

"I think they've both had enough time to calm down by now," Elizabeth paused, "But maybe you should head to Rodney's lab in an hour, just to make sure they haven't destroyed each other."

_*AM*AM*AM*AM*AM*AM*AM*_

"Good evening, Dr. Vaughn," Radek greeted D as she came into the lab.

"Evening, Dr. Zelenka," D gave him a slight nod, "Do you know where I can find-"

"You!" Rodney shouted across the lab.

"Never mind," D sighed heavily, "I found him."

She headed back towards Rodney's workstation, tablets and laptops spread haphazardly across the surface.

"What is this?" Rodney pointed to one of the screens in front of him.

D raised an eyebrow at him, "If I say a computer screen, are you going to get even more upset?"

"This report," Rodney flapped a hand at the screen, "It's-"

"Completely in English?" D interjected.

"You're a laugh-riot," Rodney scowled at her, "You're also a lot smarter than you look, apparently."

"I'm not sure if that was a compliment or an insult," D said curiously, "or possibly an odd combination of the two."

"Ninety percent of my staff," Rodney gestured around the large lab, "couldn't put together a report this comprehensive and well-written if I gave them an entire month, much less do it overnight. And _maybe_ a dozen people in this entire City could grasp the content with the level of understanding that you do, myself included."

D tilted her head to the side, "Is that a bad thing?"

"Yes, it's a bad thing," Rodney answered crossly.

"If you'd like to talk to Dr. Weir about replacing members of your staff," D offered calmly, "I'd be happy to arrange a time for you to speak with her."

"That," Rodney pointed a finger at her, "is exactly what I'm talking about. Why the hell are you scheduling meetings and fetching coffee for Elizabeth?"

"I'm her assistant," confusion came over D's face, "What else should I be doing?"

"Please tell me you're joking," Rodney stared at D, astonishment in his tone when he continued, "You're not joking. You have _no idea_ what I'm talking about, do you?"

"No, I don't, Dr. McKay," D stiffened, mumbling under her breath as she turned to leave, "_YA znal, chto eto uzhasnaya ideya_." [Russian: I knew this was a terrible idea.]

"Wait," Rodney reached out to grab D's arm to stop her.

"Please do not touch me without my permission, Dr. McKay," D looked down at the hand clasped around her bicep.

"Sorry," Rodney released her, "Just…hear me out, okay?"

D turned back around slowly, "I'm listening."

"Look, this report is brilliant," Rodney started carefully, "There are things here that even _I_ might not have considered. You'd have to be exceptionally smart to have written this."

"You're upset because my report was too good?" D asked cautiously.

"I'm mad because anyone who's smart enough to do this," Rodney pointed at the screen, "should not be wasting their time as someone's _assistant_. I don't understand _why_ you'd want to spend your time fetching and carrying for someone, even if it is Elizabeth, when you have the potential for so much more."

"I…" D cleared her throat, looking down at the floor, "I appreciate your concern, Dr. McKay, but I'm where I need to be right now."

"Are you sure?" Rodney questioned, "Because you could replace at least six people in this lab _alone_ and if I replace them with you then maybe I'd have room in my budget for that new equipment that I wanted."

"Yes, I'm sure," D lifted her head, "And you already received a dozen new coffee makers. You don't need one for every single lab."

"I take it back," Rodney huffed and turned to face his laptop fully, "You're still an idiot."

"And you're still a jackass," D snorted, then continued uncertainly, "I have a little time right now, if you want…I could go over the neurobiology parts with you."

"Only if you'll get me some coffee first," Rodney waved his empty cup at her.

"The machine's right over there, Doctor," D pointed over her shoulder as she pulled a stool closer to Rodney, "You insisted this and your personal lab were the first to get the new coffee makers. Besides, I'm too smart to be fetching coffee, remember?"

"I should've known that was going to come back and bite me on the ass," Rodney grumbled as he stood.

"I'll take mine black, two sugars," D smirked and moved one of the laptops in front of her, "Thanks, Rodney."

"Anything else I can get you, _Doctor_?" Rodney scowled at her.

D looked over her shoulder at Rodney, "Not unless you're willing to part with some of the Hershey Kisses you have hidden in the bottom drawer of the desk in your office."

"Don't push it, Red," Rodney stalked towards the coffee machine, "I'll be moving my stash before I go to sleep tonight, so don't even _think_ about helping yourself."


	14. Progress

"Hey, Zelenka," John lifted a friendly hand to the other man as he came into the lab, "Is Rodney still-"

"You _cannot_ be serious," Rodney's loud voice came from the back of the room, "That's ridiculous, even for you."

"Follow the insults," Radek rolled his eyes and pointed towards a set of whiteboards, grumbling under his breath in Czech as he went back to work. John made his way to the back of the lab, glancing over Rodney's workstation to see two empty coffee cups in the middle of tablets and laptops.

"I am perfectly serious," D's voice was somewhere between amused and annoyed, "How else would it work?"

"You can't make _ludicrous_ assumptions like that," Rodney insisted hotly, "based on little to no evidence."

John came around the set of squiggle-covered whiteboards just in time to see D put her hands on her hips and step towards Rodney.

"Science is _based_ on assumptions," D argued, her chin tilted up in defiance, "The very definition of 'hypothesis' is a supposition or proposed explanation made on the basis of _limited_ evidence as a starting point for further investigation."

"I know what a hypothesis is," Rodney glared down at D.

"Are you sure?" D raised an eyebrow, "Because I'm positive you _just_ told me I couldn't make assumptions in reference to something science related."

Rodney pointed an uncapped marker at D's face, "Listen, you little sh-"

"How's it going?" John interrupted.

"Sheppard," Rodney turned to face him tersely, "What are you doing here?"

"Colonel Sheppard is here because Dr. Weir wanted to make sure I didn't unduly damage you," D snatched the marker from Rodney, looking at John curiously as she capped it, "Except he should've been here sooner. Did she give me more than half an hour to talk to McKay?"

"Elizabeth gave the two of you an hour," John admitted as he shoved his hands in his pockets, "But that was three hours ago. Lorne cornered me about inventory and I couldn't get away."

"What? Why didn't Elizabeth call me?" D looked down at her watch, "Damn it, Rodney. You made me miss this evening's meeting with the oceanography team."

"Excuse me, Red," Rodney grabbed the marker back, "I didn't _make_ you do anything. And this just proves that Elizabeth doesn't actually need your help to run the City."

"No, Dr. Weir doesn't _need_ anyone's help, but that doesn't mean I can't make things easier for her," D stepped around the whiteboard gracefully, "I'll have to get the security footage from Lieutenant Dorsey so I can file my notes properly. Dorsey is always in a foul mood at the end of his shift."

"But we're not done here," Rodney poked his head around the board.

"I'm sure you can figure it out on your own," D waved a hand at him as she made her way to the door.

"Well, of course I can," Rodney called after her, "because you're _wrong_, idiot. You'd better be back here tomorrow morning to finish this."

"I'm not wrong, jackass," D yelled as she left, "and I don't work for you."

"I take it the two of you worked things out," John followed Rodney back to his desk.

"No," Rodney scowled at one of the laptops, "Because she's still working for Elizabeth."

"Rodney," John sighed, "Dr. Vaughn isn't going anywhere. You're going to have to learn to get along with her."

"What?" Rodney looked up at John, "We get along just fine."

"You just said-" John started.

"That she's still working for Elizabeth," Rodney huffed, "Yes, I know. She shouldn't be."

"Okay," John drawled, "Where should she be working?"

Rodney gave John a baleful look, "For me, obviously."

"You don't need an assistant, McKay," John rolled his eyes.

"Actually, yes, I do," Rodney insisted, "But that's not what I was talking about."

"What were you talking about then?" John asked patiently.

"She's a freaking genius," Rodney grumbled, "Like an almost-as-smart-as-I-am genius."

"And that's…bad?" John questioned.

Rodney gave John another annoyed look, "Yes, that's bad."

"Rodney," John crossed his arms across his chest, "Make sense or I'm leaving."

"Dr. Vaughn should be in a lab somewhere," Rodney explained sullenly, "One of my labs. Doing _important_ work. I tried to convince her to work for me instead of Elizabeth, but she actually _likes _being an assistant. Can you believe that?"

"I thought she was wrong about whatever the two of you were arguing about," John gestured vaguely towards the whiteboards, "You called her an idiot."

"She _is_ an idiot and she's wrong," Rodney huffed, "_and_ she didn't even stay so we could finish this section. Figuring out exactly how the MTI works and how to duplicate it is a lot more important than some ridiculous meeting with _oceanographers_."

"You can't figure it out on your own?" John smirked, "Never thought I'd see the day where the great Dr. Rodney McKay admitted he needed help from anyone."

"I don't need help," Rodney bristled, "But Dr. Vaughn was the one who actually read the section of the database about the MTI and wrote the report. It'd go a lot faster if she was here to clarify some of the things she wrote. This will take months, probably years, to figure out completely. I have dozens of other projects I need to be working on and I can't trust any of the morons that work for me to do more than the most basic tasks unsupervised, much less something of this scale. I can't for the life of me figure out why that woman is more concerned with missing one meeting with people who can barely call themselves scientists than with what could be the greatest technological advancement since electricity was discovered. It's infuriating."

A slow grin spread across John's face.

"What?" Rodney questioned warily, "What are you looking at me like that for?"

"I guess Elizabeth doesn't have to worry about you and Dr. Vaughn killing each other anymore," John drawled, "You like her."

"I do _not_ like her," Rodney protested hotly.

"Yes, you do," John insisted.

"No, I have an _extremely_ reluctant admiration her brain," Rodney corrected with a scowl, "The rest of her is still horribly annoying."

"Whatever you say, Rodney," John grinned, "You still coming to movie night or you too busy with all this?"

"Whose turn is it to pick?" Rodney questioned.

"Mine," John answered easily.

Rodney narrowed his eyes, "Are you going to pick something full of explosions again?"

"Probably," John picked up the empty coffee cups and set them by the small sink, "You coming or not?"

"Yeah, yeah, I'm coming," Rodney waved a hand at him as he started turning off laptops, "Give me two minutes to shut everything down then I have to go by my office to move my chocolate stash."

"You have chocolate hidden in your office?" John asked cautiously.

"Yes," Rodney grumbled, "but apparently it's not as secret as I thought."

"I'll let you pick the movie if you share," John offered hopefully.

"One piece," Rodney insisted, holding up a single finger, "And you stay outside while I'm moving it."

"Two pieces," John countered, "And I won't tell Teyla you have hidden chocolate."

"Deal," Rodney agreed.

_*AM*AM*AM*AM*AM*AM*AM*_

John was sitting in the conference room, talking quietly with Teyla when D came in carrying a stack of tablets.

"Dr. Weir will be here shortly," D started passing out the tablets, "AR-4 was a little late with their check-in, so she's still on the radio with them."

"We're not in a hurry," John accepted the last tablet.

"I don't need this," Ronon tried to give his tablet back to D.

D ignored him, reaching across the table to put her hand under his chin and tilting his head to the side, "Bruising looks much better. Stitches come out soon?"

"Doc says in two days," Ronon agreed with a small nod.

"Good," D smiled as she released his face, "You're keeping the tablet. It took me a little while, but I finally found the written Satedan language in the Ancient database. It's ten-thousand years old, but it might be easier for you to read than English. Take a look and let me know if I need to change anything for you. Teyla, I still haven't found any references to the Athosian language, so I'm afraid your briefing is still in English."

"My people did not develop a written language until well after the Ancestors left this galaxy," Teyla smiled softly, "But thank you for your efforts. I would be willing to teach you Athosian, if you have the time."

"I'd appreciate that," D agreed with a hesitant smile, "Maybe when you return from your upcoming mission, I could schedule some time with you."

"I thought the Pegasus gate translated everything," John questioned.

"Only spoken languages," D shook her head, "nothing written. And from my understanding, the Pegasus natives have developed a sort of universal trade language that most planets use anyway."

"Wait a minute," Rodney sat forward, "Ronon's briefing is in Satedan?"

"Yes," D answered easily.

"You had time to learn Satedan for mission briefings that Ronon's probably not even going to read," Rodney scowled, "and you're scheduling Athosian lessons, but you couldn't make _any_ time in the last _week_ to come back and help me work on the MTI?"

"I didn't learn to speak Satedan, McKay," D moved to sit in one of the chairs at the head of the table, "Only to write it. Most people find information easier to read and retain if it's written in their native language. All my reports are written with that in mind, specifically tailored to the person they are intended for. Besides, preparing mission briefings is part of my job. Listening to you rant about how you're the smartest person in the room is not."

"I don't do that," Rodney protested.

"Yes, you do," D snorted, "Also, for the record, behind the coffee maker is not any better than in the bottom drawer of your desk. It's like you _want_ them to get stolen."

"How did you…?" Rodney narrowed his eyes at D, "Did you break into my office?"

"What reason do I have to break into your office?" D smiled politely.

"To steal my ch-" Rodney cut himself off abruptly, looking around the room at the other curious faces.

"Your what, Rodney?" D's smile widened.

"Nice try, Red," Rodney snatched his tablet off the table, "Does this mean my briefing is actually in English this time and not some other random, obscure language?"

"They were not 'random, obscure languages'," D stated calmly, "On the list of top one hundred spoken languages Greek is number seventy-six, Romanian is number fifty, and Japanese is _ninth_."

Rodney gave her a flat look, "That didn't answer my question."

"I was going to write it in Swahili," D started typing on her own tablet.

"And what number is Swahili?" John smirked at Rodney's deepening scowl.

"Forty-five," D looked up at John oddly, "spoken by approximately 26 million people or 0.39 percent of Earth's population."

"Are there truly so many different languages on your world?" Teyla asked curiously.

"There are actually about six thousand different spoken languages on Earth," D explained, "I speak barely a fraction of them."

"Don't change the subject," Rodney glowered, "Why isn't my briefing written in English like everyone else's?"

"Mine's not," Ronon smirked.

"Ronon's is in Satedan," D smiled politely, "and mine is in Latin. The only reason Teyla's isn't in Athosian is because I haven't learned it yet. Your briefing isn't the only one written in something other than English."

"English is not your native language?" Teyla wondered.

"I learned English and Latin at the same time," D clarified, "So I consider both my native languages. I prefer to use Latin when reading and writing."

"I'm from _Canada_. Not…" Rodney protested, waving a hand in a vague gesture, "wherever Swahili comes from."

"Kenya, Tanzania, and Uganda," D supplied helpfully, "There's actually some very impressive landscape in that area."

"Have you been to Africa, Dr. Vaughn?" John inquired.

"Depends on who you ask," D shrugged.

"Can everyone please stay on topic?" Rodney glared at each of his teammates before his annoyed stare settled on D, "And you, stop avoiding my question. Why isn't my report in English? Why is it in Swahili?"

"Since you clogged up my inbox with _thirteen_ emails in the last _four_ days," D replied evenly, "with requests for clarification on a subject you _insisted_ I was wrong about. And if you'd take the time to look at the briefing, you'd see it's not actually inSwahili."

"Why didn't you just say that in the _first place_?" Rodney scowled at his tablet briefly, "This is French."

"You did say you were from Canada," D smirked, "and I was feeling generous last night."

"I don't know hardly any French," Rodney complained, "I thought you said-"

D stood as Elizabeth walked into the room, "Ma'am."

"Sorry about that," Elizabeth slid into the chair next to D, "Captain Matthews' team ran into a little bit of trouble on Hiraga."

"Is everything all right?" Teyla asked cautiously, "The people on that planet have always been friendly in my dealings with them."

"It's fine," Elizabeth assured her, "Dr. Lindsay got a little over enthusiastic when speaking to the town elders. The team has decided to stay overnight to celebrate her very recent marriage to Sgt. Connors."

"I see," a smile pulled at the corners of Teyla's mouth, "I'm sure it was a lovely ceremony. The Hiragans' celebratory feasts are quite entertaining and the food is always delicious."

"I'll schedule Dr. Lindsay and Sgt. Connors for a debriefing with the sociology department when they return tomorrow," D made a note on her tablet, "I'm sure sociologists will want to hear about the marriage customs of the Hiragans. Will Dr. Heightmeyer be necessary as well?"

"According to Matthews," Elizabeth smiled wryly, "It was more of a flowers and champagne ceremony than spears and swords. I don't think they'll need Heightmeyer this time, but you can ask when they get back."

"Yes, ma'am," D nodded and slid a tablet in front of Elizabeth.

"Let's talk about," Elizabeth looked down at the screen, "M31-654 now, shall we?"

"My briefing-" Rodney started.

"Bottom left corner, Dr. McKay," D gestured to his tablet.

"What?" Rodney's face scrunched up as he tapped on the screen, "Oh. Never mind."

Elizabeth sighed and pinched the bridge of her nose, "Did you decide on Swahili or German, Dr. Vaughn?"

"French, actually," D answered seriously, "but I included an English translation this time."

"I suppose that's progress," Elizabeth shook her head.


	15. Expertise

"So it's a teenage thing," John decided, "pimples, rebellion, life-sucking."

Elizabeth gave John an amused smirk as Carson continued his explanation, "Something like that. The question is, what causes it? If it's due to some chemical deficiency, like a diabetic's inability to process sugar, then it's possible it may be addressed with some kind of drug."

"So Zaddik could be telling the truth," Elizabeth turned back to Carson.

"I'd like to go to the planet and check into it," Carson informed them.

"Is that really necessary?" Elizabeth questioned, "I'm sure we could get a sample, bring it back here for you to analyze."

"It's not just the drug I'm interested in," Carson admitted, "This young Wraith could be very important for our research."

"What research?" John inquired.

"We're working on a retrovirus that would alter Wraith DNA," Carson explained, "essentially stripping out the iratus bug elements of their genetic code and leaving only the human aspects behind."

"A drug that turns Wraith into humans?" John asked warily.

"Effectively, yes," Carson agreed, "But so far, we haven't had much success, partly because we lack the living tissue and blood samples we need to test it."

"You think this girl would be willing to provide them?" Elizabeth looked back to John.

Carson continued when John only shrugged, "Look, I realize we can't bring her back to Atlantis, but I could take the retrovirus and the equipment necessary for the analysis with me to the planet. A few days with a cooperative test subject could be worth months of theoretical research. Elizabeth, I don't have to tell you how important this could be for us."

"Is she dangerous?" Elizabeth asked John.

"She's a Wraith," John paused, continuing reluctantly, "Although, I have to admit she does seem a little different."

"All right, Carson," Elizabeth agreed cautiously, "But please be careful."

"Thank you, Elizabeth," Carson smiled.

"Would you excuse us for a moment, Colonel Sheppard?" D asked politely.

"Sure," John hopped off the bed, "I'm going to go find Ronon and let him know we'll be headed back in…how long you need, Doc? An hour?"

"An hour and a half," D answered before Carson could, "There's something I need Dr. Beckett to do before he leaves."

"Hour and a half then," John nodded to Elizabeth as he left.

"Before you start collecting your equipment, Dr. Beckett," D spoke quietly, "May I ask you a question?"

"Of course, dear," Carson nodded.

"How long have you been working on this retrovirus?" D questioned evenly.

"Only since we got back from Earth," Carson replied easily.

"Since you got back," D repeated flatly.

"Well, yes…" Carson paled as he trailed off.

"Dr. Vaughn," Elizabeth cautioned.

"No," Carson insisted firmly, holding D's stormy gray, emotionless stare, "Absolutely not. I wouldn't do that."

"I find the timing, Dr. Beckett," D said coolly, "more than a little suspect. Within mere months of learning about previously unknown genetic experiments, you've managed to develop a retrovirus that strips away unwanted DNA, changing the base genetic code of your test subject. I'm sure given the similarities between the two projects, you can understand my concern."

"The concepts are similar, yes, but I assure you, they are distinctly different. I've been toying with the idea for the retrovirus since Colonel Sheppard encountered the iratus bug last year," Carson explained, "I've only had the time and resources to explore it further since we reconnected with Earth."

"You're going to copy _all_ of your research on this retrovirus to my email," the order was clear in D's tone, "_Before_ you leave."

Carson nodded quickly, "I will."

"And Carson?" D asked sweetly.

"Yes?" Carson replied uneasily.

D took a step closer, a dangerous smile on her face, "If I find _anything_ that connects to Evolution, I will be extremely displeased with you. I don't think you'll be happy with the way in which I choose to express that displeasure. Is that understood?"

"Yes, I…" Carson swallowed nervously, "I understand, Dr. Vaughn."

"Good," D turned to Elizabeth, eyes pale gray and expression neutral once more, "If you'll excuse me, ma'am, I need to set up the conference room for the meeting with the engineering staff."

"Go ahead," Elizabeth said calmly, "I'll be there as soon as I can."

"The meeting doesn't start for ten minutes, ma'am," D turned to leave, "There's no rush."

"Bloody hell," Carson let out a shaky breath as D disappeared from the infirmary, "I knew she was…but I've…I didn't think…"

"Take a breath," Elizabeth ordered calmly.

"You know I would _never_ use anything from that project, Elizabeth," Carson insisted quickly, "The principles behind the retrovirus are somewhat similar to the experiments they were doing, but it is in _absolutely _no way based on that research."

"I know, Carson," Elizabeth said soothingly, "After everything she's experienced because of it, D is naturally wary of anything even remotely resembling Evolution. I wouldn't take it personally. I'm sure once she reads your research, she'll understand."

"I'll be sure to give her a copy of everything before I leave," Carson paused and frowned slightly, "Her eyes got darker. Not dilated pupils, but the actual pigment in the irises changed to a deeper gray, from the outside in. I've never seen anything like that before."

"Yes, I saw," Elizabeth agreed thoughtfully, "It happened last week in my office too, when Rodney set her off. Her eyes were nearly black, but changed back to their normal pale gray after she calmed down."

"I wonder if that's another of the unintended side-effects of the project," Carson pondered, "Perhaps something to do with extra adrenaline. I would ask D about it, but I don't know how well my questions would be received right now."

"Maybe when you get back," Elizabeth offered as she turned to leave, "I'd better go. I have a meeting to prepare for and you have equipment to pack."

"Yes, of course," Carson smiled, "Good luck."

"You too," Elizabeth returned his smile over her shoulder, "And be careful."

_*AM*AM*AM*AM*AM*AM*AM*_

"Incoming wormhole," Chuck announced, "Colonel Sheppard's IDC. He's reporting minor injuries."

"Lower the shield," Elizabeth ordered.

"Yes, ma'am," Chuck nodded.

When Elizabeth turned to D, she was already reaching up to tap her earpiece, "Did they say what the nature of the injuries were?"

"Ms. Emmagan took a blow to the head but is conscious and alert, Colonel Sheppard has a laceration to the arm that's been temporarily bandaged, and…" Chuck paused shortly, then cleared his throat, "and apparently Dr. McKay has a very serious splinter, ma'am."

D kept her expression carefully blank as she relayed the information over the radio, then looked up at Elizabeth, "Medical personal are on their way, ma'am. Two minutes. Will you be delaying the mission briefing with AR-5 to accompany AR-1 to the infirmary?"

"It doesn't sound like anything too serious," Elizabeth shook her head, "I'll go ahead with the briefing. But…would you mind going with Sheppard's team to get me a preliminary report?"

"Of course not, ma'am," D nodded and handed Elizabeth her tablet, "Everything you need for the meeting is on your tablet. Stackhouse's team should be waiting in the conference room. Call me if you need anything."

"Thanks, D," Elizabeth smiled as she crossed the control room, "Let me know as soon as you have an update."

"How long until AR-1's jumper arrives, Sgt. Campbell?" D asked calmly.

"Should be coming through in just a couple minutes," Chuck informed her.

"I'll head up to wait with the med team then," D turned towards the stairs, "Let me know if anything changes."

D made her way quietly to the jumper bay, giving the medics a silent nod as they came in just behind her. The small group waited patiently until the jumper came up from the gate room, landing easily off to the side. The ramp opened and the medics moved forward quickly to help Teyla onto a gurney.

"I am fine," Teyla claimed, "Merely a bump on the head."

"Better safe than sorry, love," Carson insisted from behind her, "Take her straight to the scanner, please."

"I see things didn't go quite according to plan," D raised an eyebrow at Carson as the medics rolled Teyla away, Ronon following quietly behind them.

"Not quite," Carson frowned sadly, motioning the rest of the medics and the second gurney forward, "On you go, Colonel."

"Come on, Doc," Sheppard emerged from the jumper with Rodney at his side, "It's really not that bad. You looked at it on the planet."

"I'll take the ride," Rodney held one of his fingers in his other hand.

"Rodney," Carson sighed, "You do not need a gurney for your finger."

"McKay can have the ride for his little boo-boo," Sheppard handed his and Teyla's P90s to a waiting Marine, "I can walk."

"I'm sure you can," Carson agreed, "But you're getting on the gurney anyway. I won't have you fainting in the hallway from blood loss."

"I'm injured too," Rodney complained, "How come Sheppard gets a ride and I don't?"

"Because his injury is worse than yours," Carson answered evenly.

"This could get infected," Rodney waved his finger in front of Carson's face.

"Infected," John nodded his agreement.

"No arguments," Carson shook his head.

"We're not arguing," John gave Carson a lopsided smile, "We both agree that Rodney can have the gurney."

"We do," Rodney nodded.

"I meant no arguing with _me_," Carson clarified.

"_Jeg får ikke betalt nok for dette_," D muttered under her breath, her voice steady when she continued, "Colonel Sheppard, get on the gurney. Dr. McKay, start walking." [Norwegian: I do not get paid enough for this.]

When the two men only stared at D curiously instead of moving, she put her hands on her hips and glared at them.

"Now, boys," D commanded impatiently, "Standing around in the jumper bay isn't doing anyone any good."

"You can't tell me what to do," Rodney pouted.

"I think she just did, Rodney," John snorted as he hopped onto the gurney.

"If you can make it all the way to the infirmary without complaining, Dr. McKay," D offered calmly, "I'll work with you in your lab for an entire day on whichever project you want."

"Really?" Rodney brightened as he followed the medics to the door, "An entire day like a work day or an entire day like a rotation of this planet around the sun?"

"A full twenty-seven hours," D explained, "But Dr. Beckett is the one who gets to decide if you're complaining or not."

"Twenty-seven hours of _only_ work time," Rodney narrowed his eyes at D, "Or twenty-seven hours including breaks for food and sleeping? Because I don't think your breaks should count against my time."

"Rodney," Carson scolded, "People have to eat and sleep on a regular basis."

"It's fine, Carson. I've gone longer without either," D smiled kindly at him before turning back to Rodney, "Twenty-seven hours not including breaks, but that does include any time you spend ranting about how smart you are compared to everyone else."

"And I can pick whatever project I want?" Rodney questioned gleefully, "Even something you've never heard of or something from the Ancient database?"

"Any project you choose," D agreed, "But it might be a good idea to pick something within my area of expertise because I'm not giving you any more time than I've already offered. I learn quickly, but not that quickly."

"What exactly is your expertise, Dr. Vaughn?" John wondered.

"I am experienced in linguistics, international relations, neurobiology," D replied easily, "biochemistry, organic chemistry, human anatomy, genetics, logistics, forensic science, military engineering, security engineering, behavioral analysis, forensic psychology, kinesiology, predictive analytics, and cryptology."

"What did you say you did before you came here?" John inquired warily.

"High-risk threat assessments," D responded smoothly.

"Is there anything you _don't_ do, Red?" Rodney asked incredulously.

D looked thoughtful for a moment before she responded seriously, "According to Dr. Beckett and Dr. Weir, I don't deal with irritation in an appropriate manner. And Sgt. Campbell informs me that my sense of humor is terribly underdeveloped. Also, I'm not very good with social interactions involving large groups of people…or small groups of people…or any people really," D paused, "May I ask you a question, Dr. McKay?"

"I guess?" Rodney eyed D cautiously.

"Why do you call me Red?" D tilted her head to the side, "That's not my name."

"It's a nickname…" when D only continued to stare at him curiously, Rodney gestured toward her hair, "Because you have that weird shade of dark red hair. And because no matter what you say, 'D' is not a name, it's a letter of the alphabet and I refuse to call you that. No one's ever called you Red before?"

"No," D shrugged, "But I've never really had a nickname, so that's probably why."

"Technically speaking," John drawled, "Wouldn't 'D' be considered a nickname? Isn't that short for your real name?"

"Technically, yes," D agreed, ducking her head to look at the floor, "But I don't really remember what my real name was-_is_, only that it started with the letter D."

"I thought you had an eidetic memory," Rodney scowled, "Shouldn't you remember pretty much everything about your entire life?"

"My name was from before-" D replied quietly, "It's incredibly complicated, Dr. McKay."

"Before what?" Rodney asked curtly, "How can you not-"

"This really isn't necessary, Doc," John interrupted, poking at the bandage on his arm as he was wheeled into the infirmary.

"Yes, it is," Carson insisted calmly, "You've got a serious laceration on your arm and you've lost a good deal of blood."

"Yeah, well, enjoy the ride, Colonel," Rodney grumbled, his questions forgotten, "They're making me walk."

"You have a splinter, Rodney," Carson rolled his eyes.

"Yes," Rodney hopped onto an empty gurney, "A very nasty, painful splinter."

D gave John a short, thankful nod as Carson started unwinding the field dressing from his arm.


	16. Practice

"Flight confirms that the _Daedalus_ is on schedule, ma'am," D walked into Elizabeth's office, setting a tablet on top of her desk, "They should be landing in less than half an hour."

"Good," Elizabeth nodded without looking up from her work, "Lt. Kemp and his platoon?"

"Ready to begin off-loading supplies as soon as the ship lands," D informed her, "There are only a dozen new personnel this time, all civilians."

"I still have a few more progress reports to go through," Elizabeth gestured to her laptop, "Would you mind…?"

"I'll head over to help get them settled as soon as I'm done here, ma'am," D offered, "Last night's security reports?"

"I signed off on those," Elizabeth replied, "Already in the file for transmission to Earth. The requisition forms are done as well, minus any last minute additions."

"There will be at least two," D said thoughtfully, "Dr. Campbell should realize she needs more test tubes by the end of the day and Dr. Schultz will be requesting three more hard drives in the next twelve hours."

"Schultz needs more hard drives?" Elizabeth looked up with a slight scowl, "Didn't he just get six more last month?"

"Yes, ma'am," D agreed, "But Dr. Kappel received eight hard drives. The two of them were getting along as of this morning, so when Schultz goes into Kappel's lab for their afternoon tea…"

"He'll see that Kappel has two more hard drives," Elizabeth sighed, "And the feud will be back on."

"I recommend you agree to two of the three hard drives he requests," D suggested, "then either have them fill out joint requisition forms or let me edit their separate forms. Either solution will cut down on their excessive ordering because of their competitiveness."

"We'll try having them fill out joint forms for the next two months," Elizabeth decided, "Then if that doesn't work, you can start adjusting the forms to sensible numbers."

"Yes, ma'am," D nodded, "I'll let Drs. Schultz and Kappel know as soon as I'm done with orientation for the new personnel. Did you receive my preliminary report on Colonel Sheppard's team?"

"I did," Elizabeth pursed her lips, "How are they doing?"

"Dr. Beckett released Ms. Emmagan from the infirmary this morning," D informed her, "No concussion, just a minor laceration on the back of her head. Colonel Sheppard's wound was no longer visible when Beckett examined it. Beckett drew blood samples, did several scans, and is currently awaiting the results. Dr. McKay's splinter was successfully removed. All three are cleared for active duty. You should also know, in order to expedite the trip to the infirmary, I agreed to work in Dr. McKay's lab for twenty-seven hours."

"You did?" Elizabeth bit back a smile, "How did that happen?"

"I told McKay if he could make it from the jumper bay to the infirmary without complaining," D sighed, "I would work in his lab with him for an entire day."

Elizabeth raised an eyebrow, "And he actually made it the whole way?"

"Just inside the door," D rolled her eyes, "So technically, yes. If there are any days in particular you think you'll need me, let me know so I can schedule around them."

"The only thing I can think of is that trip to Frente," Elizabeth replied, "for the harvest ceremony, but that's not for two weeks."

"I don't suppose you could come up with any more work for me?" D asked hopefully.

Elizabeth laughed, "You already do all of your work and at least half of mine days ahead of time. I'm still not convinced that you actually sleep."

"I sleep," D protested with a slight pout, "Four hours every night. Unless I'm injured, that's all my body requires. Why would I sleep more than that when I could be getting work done?"

"Don't you do anything besides work?" Elizabeth asked curiously.

"I run or swim for at least an hour every morning," D answered seriously, "followed by an hour of strength training or flexibility exercises on alternating days, and I have a standing appointment to spar with Ronon once a week provided neither of us are off-world."

"I meant _fun_," Elizabeth clarified, "Don't you do anything just because it's fun?"

"Sparring with Ronon is fun," D looked at Elizabeth curiously, "Is there something else I should be doing?"

"Well," Elizabeth leaned back in her chair, "There's always movie or two playing in one of the common rooms that starts every night at 2000. Dr. Zelenka is the head of the chess club, so you could speak to him about joining one of their tournaments. Dr. Esposito teaches a salsa dancing class twice a week. Lt. Kagan formed a knitting circle that meets every five days. I'm in a book club with Kate Heightmeyer and Marie Ko, among others."

"But none of those activities serve a purpose," D tilted her head to the side, "What's the point?"

"The point is to relax," Elizabeth explained, "and unwind. Do something that is not work-related. Learn something new. To have fun."

"Will any of those activities get me out of working with McKay?" D scrunched up her nose, "Because that would really help me relax."

"No," Elizabeth shook her head, "I doubt it. But you should try one or two of them anyway. It's a good way to get to know the people in the City," D hummed doubtfully as Elizabeth continued with a grin, "And you can practice those social skills you think are so terrible."

"I'll let you get back to your progress reports, ma'am," D gave Elizabeth a flat stare, "I'll come back after I finish orientation, but feel free to call before then if you need anything."

"I will," Elizabeth laughed and went back to her laptop, "Remember to tell the new people to stay away from the South Pier. It's still damaged from the last flood."

_*AM*AM*AM*AM*AM*AM*AM*_

"But, for one," Elizabeth asserted, "Ellia was a Wraith. And she took a _massive_ dose of the retrovirus. I mean, do we know how the Colonel's system might respond to the drug?"

"Dr. Beckett," D asked quietly, "May I see Colonel Sheppard's test results?"

"I have no idea, Elizabeth," Carson handed the nearby tablet to D, "It was never engineered to be given to a human. It was never intended-"

"Doc," John interrupted.

"-to be given to anyone," Carson finished.

"Let it go," John ordered easily.

"The problem is," Carson scowled, "I have no idea how your body will react. I can't even begin to guess."

"Well, if how I feel is any indication?" John responded, "I'm fine."

"It's certainly possible that it's already breaking down in your system," Carson agreed cautiously, "Ellia's transformation _was _extreme and immediate."

John looked to Elizabeth, "See?"

"But the wound on your arm healed unnaturally fast," Carson insisted.

"If there was a wound," John countered.

"There had to be," Carson frowned, "Otherwise, I don't see how you got infected in the first place."

"She was spitting an awful lot," John tried.

Carson gave John a dirty look as D handed back the tablet.

"Do you have a scalpel close by, Doctor?" D inquired evenly, "And alcohol wipes?"

"In the supply cabinets over there," Carson pointed to a nearby cabinet, "What do you need them for?"

"To test a theory," D answered absently, already crossing to retrieve the supplies from the cabinet.

"What theory?" Elizabeth asked curiously.

"Whether or not the Colonel's system is breaking down the retrovirus and whether it's effecting him in the same way as Ellia," D set the supplies on the bed next to John and eyed Carson thoughtfully, "I don't suppose you'll let me use your arm for a comparison?"

"Not if you're planning to use that scalpel," Carson shook his head, "No one needs to be cutting anyone. We can run more tests and I'll get the results back in a couple hours."

"Would you rather wait for Dr. Beckett's test results, Colonel," D looked over to John, "Or would you prefer to know now?"

"I'd rather no one get hurt because of me," John replied, "But I guess I'd like to know sooner rather than later if I'm going to turn into a giant bug."

"Take off your jacket, please," D opened one of the alcohol wipes, "I'll use my own arm for the second test. The healing factor will be slightly different than normal, but I can take that into account."

John removed his jacket, laying it on the other side of the bed next to him, "What exactly are you planning on doing, Dr. Vaughn?"

"I'm going to make a small incision," D took his right arm, swabbing his forearm with the wipe, "at the wound site. Then I'm going to make the same incision in my own arm and compare the initial healing process between the two wounds. One of the biggest differences between the iratus or Wraith DNA and that of a normal human is the inhibiting proteins present in humans."

"Those proteins prevent rapid cellular regeneration in humans," Carson agreed, "Since Wraith DNA is closer to iratus bug than human, very few of those proteins are present, giving them the ability to rapidly regenerate and heal any wound. Oh, I understand where you're going with this now."

"Care to share?" Elizabeth raised an eyebrow.

"Carson," D prompted as she picked up a thick piece of gauze, holding it under John's arm.

"If the retrovirus is already breaking down in Colonel Sheppard's system," Carson explained, "the wound will heal slowly, at close to a normal human rate. If not, the wound should heal quickly. By making the incision at the wound site, we'll get the highest concentration of retrovirus and the quickest results."

D picked up the scalpel, holding it precisely in her left hand as she made a small cut in John's forearm. Blood began welling up immediately, rolling down the side of John's arm to soak into the gauze in D's other hand. She set the scalpel down on the discarded wrapper and used the hand with the gauze to begin wiping blood away.

D narrowed her eyes as she finished cleaning the blood, "I guess that answers that question."

"What does?" John looked down at his arm.

"I don't think we'll need to compare wounds," D released his arm, moving to the side so Carson could get a good look.

"Oh good lord," Carson frowned, "It's healed already."

"What does that mean exactly?" Elizabeth asked nervously, "The retrovirus isn't breaking down?"

"It's doubtful," Carson shook his head, "Even at the wound site, for the incision to have healed this quickly means there is still a substantial amount in the Colonel's system. It's been over twelve hours since he's been infected. If the retrovirus was going to break down, I believe it would've started by now."

"Maybe Dr. Vaughn didn't cut that deep?" John said hopefully.

"I cut exactly eight millimeters into your forearm," D responded carefully, "This test is not one hundred percent accurate, obviously, but taking into account contributing factors such as your age, your physiology, the neatness of the cut, the placement of the cut-"

"D," Elizabeth interrupted, "Bottom line."

"I agree with Dr. Beckett," D concluded, "The cut took less than ten seconds to heal. It's highly unlikely that the Colonel's system is breaking down the retrovirus as we hoped."

"So what does that mean?" John asked warily.

"Without running additional tests," Carson hesitated, "I can't really say for sure."

"Your best guess?" Elizabeth crossed her arms across her chest.

"I would guess," Carson gave John an apologetic look, "that the retrovirus will begin to alter the Colonel's DNA and he'll devolve into a creature similar to what Ellia became."

"How long until that happens?" Elizabeth questioned, "Months, weeks?"

"Again, without running tests I can't say for sure," Carson answered quietly, "But considering what happened to Ellia, I'd say we have days."

"Okay," John spoke calmly, "What's the plan?"

"Well," Carson replied, "I can inject you with a viral inhibitor that should help slow the progress of the retrovirus, but I can't be certain how well the inhibitor will work or if it will work at all. I'd like you to stay in the infirmary for now so I can begin running more comprehensive tests to determine exactly what the retrovirus is doing to your DNA and at what rate."

"How do we fix this?" Elizabeth wondered, "Is there anything in the Ancient database about the iratus bugs or the Wraith that would help?"

"I've found very little about the Wraith in the database," D answered, "but I can locate and translate the entry about the iratus bugs while Dr. Beckett performs his first set of tests. I'll also have one of the conference rooms set up for anyone on his staff with a background in genetics so they can begin to research solutions."

"I'll give you a list of names before you go," Carson agreed.

Elizabeth looked to John, "And you should probably-"

"Suspend my off-world activities until we know more?" John proposed.

"Yes," Elizabeth nodded.

"If you'll come with me, Carson," D picked up the used supplies from the bed next to John, "you can give me a list of personnel and supplies you think you'll need."

"Of course," Carson followed her out of the room.

"Beckett will figure this out, Elizabeth," John hopped off the bed, "Don't worry."

"Shouldn't I be the one reassuring you?" Elizabeth raised an eyebrow at him.

"Okay," John gave her a lopsided grin, "Let's hear it then."

"Well, I'm can't now," Elizabeth said dryly, "You already took my best lines. I didn't have anything else prepared."

"If 'Beckett will figure this out' and 'don't worry' are your best lines," John drawled, "then you should probably practice your bedside manner."

"I'll work on it," Elizabeth smiled up at him, "We _are_ going to beat this, John, and you're going to be fine."

"That wasn't really any better," John grinned back, "But thanks for the effort."


	17. Personal Feelings

"Is this really necessary, Elizabeth?" D asked evenly.

"Unfortunately," Elizabeth sighed, "I think it is. Dr. Beckett's team seems to be making progress, but it's still going to be a long time before Colonel Sheppard can resume his normal duties."

"Major Lorne is perfectly capable of fulfilling the role of Military Commander while Colonel Sheppard is unavailable," D stated, "Lorne is currently doing the majority of the administrative duties anyway."

"While that may be true," Elizabeth agreed, "Colonel Caldwell is the ranking military officer in Atlantis right now. Regardless of your personal feelings towards the man, he is the appropriate person to take Colonel Sheppard's position."

"It's not about-" D cut herself off abruptly, flattening her lips together in a thin line.

"It's not about what?" Elizabeth wondered.

"Nothing, ma'am," D shook her head.

Elizabeth laid a hand on D's arm, pulling them both to a stop in the hallway, "It's not about what, D?"

"I was going to say it's not about my personal feelings," D kept her eyes on the floor, "but I guess that's not really true."

"Do you want to tell me?" Elizabeth asked softly.

"It's just…" D glanced up and down the hallway to make sure they were alone before she spoke quietly, "I don't trust Colonel Caldwell. There's something…_not right_ about him. I can't really explain it. He exudes a feeling of…I don't want to say arrogance because that's not quite accurate. It's somehow more than that. Caldwell has made no attempt whatsoever to hide his disdain for the senior staff of this expedition. I would think that someone of Caldwell's rank, someone with his military service record, someone employed with the SGC in a leadership capacity would be more respectful of others in leadership positions, no matter how he feels about them personally. I've dealt with a lot of different types of people during my previous employment and I learned quickly that the arrogant ones are some of the most dangerous. They believe they are superior to everyone else and act accordingly. I've developed very good instincts, out of sheer necessity, when it comes to determining whether a person has the capacity for violence and whether or not they have the mental state to act in a violent manner. Ronon has the capacity and mental state to cause a great deal of destruction, but I have no problems with him, in fact, I consider him a friend. Caldwell makes me twitchy. He sets off every self-preservation instinct I have."

Elizabeth raised an eyebrow, "How long have you been holding that in?"

"Since our trip on the _Daedalus_," D winced, "Sorry, ma'am. I didn't mean to rant like that."

"It's fine," Elizabeth squeezed D's arm gently, "Feel better?"

"A little bit," D admitted.

"I understand your concerns," Elizabeth released D, "But unfortunately, this isn't a decision I can make based on your instincts, no matter how finely tuned they may be."

"I know," D sighed, "And even though intellectually I understand that this situation is not Caldwell's fault, I can't help but feel that he's about to get exactly what he's wanted the entire time: control of Atlantis."

"I'm still in charge of the City," Elizabeth assured her, "And this is only temporary position for Caldwell."

"In that case," D straightened, "Let's get this over with so I can go find out if there's anything I can do to speed up Dr. Beckett's search for a cure."

"If you want to go help Carson now," Elizabeth started walking down the hall again, "I can speak to Caldwell by myself."

"Elizabeth," D raised an eyebrow as she followed Elizabeth, "I just told you that man sets off every warning bell in my head. What makes you think I'm going to leave you alone with him?"

"I don't suppose this is a good time to tell you that he and I played several games of chess in my office last night," Elizabeth said casually, "He showed up about five minutes after you left for the night."

"In the future, Dr. Weir," D replied evenly, "I would _prefer_ you not be alone with Colonel Caldwell under any circumstances."

"I'll try to keep that in mind," Elizabeth smiled wryly, "And in the future, Dr. Vaughn, feel free to come to me about your personal feelings instead of bottling them up."

"I'll try to keep that in mind, ma'am," D agreed as she waved a hand over the control panel to open the door in front of them.

_*AM*AM*AM*AM*AM*AM*AM*_

"Look," John pointed to the guard behind him as he came into Elizabeth's office, "I made a new friend."

"It's only protocol," Elizabeth set down the tablet she was holding.

"That's your answer for everything," John drawled.

"The protocol you are referring to," D stated calmly, "was put in place by you during your time as Military Commander of Atlantis."

"And you're stating the obvious again," John snarked.

"You look well," Elizabeth glanced down to John's blue scaled hand before he shoved it in his pocket self-consciously, "Should you be out of bed?"

"I was going a bit crazy down there," John confessed, "so they said I could walk around for a bit."

"That's good," Elizabeth smiled politely.

John and Elizabeth stared at each other awkwardly until John took a quick step forward, "Look, what I'm trying to say is that I want to go on this mission."

"Hey, you said it yourself," Elizabeth moved out from behind the desk, "You are not fit for any off-world activity."

"The inhibitor that Beckett's got me on," John said carefully, "the one that's keeping me lucid? They keep having to up the dose."

"I know," Elizabeth admitted, "They told me."

"I don't know how much time I have," John spoke through a clenched jaw, "but the last thing I want to do is sit on my," John pulled his blue hand from his pocket, waving it between the two of them, "_mutating _hands while my team puts their lives on the line trying to find me a cure. I should be with them."

"No," Elizabeth shook her head, "I'm sorry."

John took a step back, "What's the worst that could happen? I…I die?"

"You could compromise the mission," D stepped around the desk, moving closer to Elizabeth.

"They have enough things to worry about-" Elizabeth continued.

"Oh, whoa, whoa, what?" John interrupted, "Suddenly I'm a _liability_?"

"Your condition can change rapidly," Elizabeth said steadily.

"I _know_," John raised his voice, "And I know I can do this."

"I'm…" Elizabeth started, "_glad_ you feel that way. But it would be irresponsible of me-"

"This is _my_ life we're talking about," John protested hotly.

"I know that," Elizabeth insisted.

As John and Elizabeth continued to stare at each other, neither willing to look away first, D slipped around them silently, standing next to the wary guard in the doorway.

"I'm going on that mission," John said quietly.

"No, John," Elizabeth lifted her chin, "You're not."

"_DAMN IT_!" John yelled. He whirled around, smashing his blue, scaly hand into the glass panel behind him, sending a shower of glass shards falling to the ground.

D had the guard's sidearm in her hand, steadily trained on John before the guard could raise his stunner in response.

"Stand down, Sheppard," D ordered coolly, finger resting on the barrel of the gun next to the trigger, "Or my first shot goes between your eyes."

"It's okay," Elizabeth stepped over the glass, gesturing for D and the guard to lower their weapons, "Put it down."

The guard lowered his stunner but D didn't move, black gaze unwavering as she spoke evenly, "_Periculosa ipse est_." [Latin: He is dangerous.]

"_Non ad me_," Elizabeth insisted softly. [Latin: Not to me.]

D lowered the gun slowly, keeping her grip tight as she pointed it towards the floor, "_S'il bouge dans votre direction, je lui tire dessus._" [French: If he moves toward you, I will shoot him.]

John looked down at the broken shards of glass around his feet, then back up to Elizabeth, "I'm betting that didn't sell you?"

"No," Elizabeth shook her head.

"I should go back to the infirmary," John suggested.

"Yes," Elizabeth agreed firmly.

The guard looked at D expectantly, holding out his hand. D flicked her glance to Elizabeth, then thumbed the safety on the gun.

"Not to the infirmary," D insisted as she handed the gun back, "Colonel Sheppard goes back to his room. He can be monitored from there."

"That's probably a good idea. The infirmary isn't really secure," John moved out onto the walkway behind the guard, then turned back to D with a wary look on his face, "Did you threaten to shoot me in the head, Dr. Vaughn?"

"It was not a threat, Colonel Sheppard," D replied smoothly, "It was a statement of fact."

"I didn't know your job description," John looked between Elizabeth and D, "included shooting people."

D moved close to John, lowering her voice so only he could hear, "My job is to do whatever is necessary to ensure Dr. Weir remains the leader of the Atlantis Expedition for as long as possible. That includes dealing with any threats to her well-being in the manner of my choosing. I suggest you keep that in mind, John, because I take my job very seriously. Do you understand?"

"I understand," John narrowed his eyes, "But you and I are going to have a talk about this, when things are…back to normal."

"No, we aren't," D gave him a dangerous smile, "This will be the only time we have this conversation, Sheppard. And this will be the only time I ever give you a warning; if you ever threaten Elizabeth's safety again, I will end you," she stepped back and looked over his shoulder, raising her voice to a normal volume, "Sgt. Baumann, please escort the Colonel to his quarters and ensure that he remains there until further notice."

"Yes, ma'am," Baumann moved to the side to let John pass.

"I understand you have personal feelings for Colonel Sheppard, ma'am," D turned back to Elizabeth, her expression neutral as she spoke, "But you need to trust my judgment when it comes to your personal safety."

"I do," Elizabeth said resolutely, "But you need to trust _my _judgment when I tell you; I know John Sheppard. He wouldn't have hurt me."

"Elizabeth," D's expression softened, eyes fading back to pale gray, "You're the first person in my entire life that I ever have trusted completely. And any other time, I would agree with you. Sheppard would end his own life rather than purposely hurt anyone he cared for. But that," D gestured to the door John left through, "was not John Sheppard. The iratus DNA is beginning to take over his cognitive processes. He is becoming an animal in the form of Sheppard's body. He didn't realize what he was doing until after he had already broken the window. Your faith in him will not protect you when the time comes. I will."

"Would you have killed him," Elizabeth pressed her hands down on her desk, "if he had moved toward me again?"

"Yes," D replied without hesitation, "Do you truly believe that Sheppard won't harm you?"

"Yes," Elizabeth answered just as quickly, then continued uncertainly, "If it comes down to it and you have to…to…"

"He frightened you just now," D tilted her head to the side, "Are you asking me not to kill him? Or are you asking me to kill him quickly?"

"I don't know, D. I really don't," Elizabeth admitted, rubbing a hand down her face, "If Carson can't fix this…"

"Unless you specifically order me to terminate him, I won't. If and when you give the order, I am fully capable of making it quick and painless for him. Until that time, Elizabeth," D placed a gentle hand on Elizabeth's wrist, "I _promise_ I will do whatever I can to keep him safe for you, so long as doing so doesn't put your life in danger."

"Thank you, D," Elizabeth sighed and laid her hand on top of D's, "I don't think I'll ever be able to give you an order like that. I _have_ to believe that Carson's cure will work."

"The science is sound," D reassured her, "As long as they're able to get the iratus bug stem cells, I see no reason the cure won't work."

"As long as they can get the eggs," Elizabeth nodded.

"If I ask you not to meet with Colonel Sheppard alone until this is over," D stepped back, releasing Elizabeth's arm, "will you actually listen?"

"You do know I'm a grown woman," Elizabeth said dryly, "and I don't actually need a chaperone, don't you?"

"Around potentially dangerous people you do," D insisted, "And you didn't answer my question."

"Aren't you potentially dangerous?" Elizabeth raised an eyebrow.

"I'm not _potentially_ dangerous, Elizabeth," D corrected easily, "I _am_ dangerous."

"Not to me," Elizabeth insisted softly.

"Never to you, ma'am," D inclined her head respectfully.

"You can be my chaperone," Elizabeth agreed, "At least until this whole thing is resolved."

"Thank you. I'll call maintenance about the glass," D moved over to Elizabeth's desk to pick up the discarded tablet from earlier, "Now, before we're interrupted again, there are some things you need to see. It seems Caldwell has been a very busy man in his first few hours as Military Commander of Atlantis."

"Oh, has he?" Elizabeth narrowed her eyes as she accepted the tablet from D.

* * *

Special thanks to reader LillyD11 for helping me with the French translations!


	18. Update

"As much I hate to admit it, ma'am," D followed Elizabeth through the busy hallway, "what Caldwell said wasn't wrong. Many of the changes he implemented will help the day-to-day operations of the City run more efficiently."

"I was under the impression things were already going rather smoothly," Elizabeth glanced over to D.

"Smoothly, yes," D agreed, "But the changes Caldwell made will streamline things further, make things more efficient. Colonel Sheppard is a pilot; he's not exactly used to being in charge of large groups of people. While Major Lorne has been filling some of the gaps administrative-wise, he doesn't have much more experience than Sheppard."

"You think we should keep the changes Caldwell made?" Elizabeth asked cautiously.

"Not all of them," D shrugged, "But there are several that should be given serious consideration."

"All right," Elizabeth sighed, "When Colonel Sheppard resumes his post, I'll go over the changes with him and we can decide which ones to keep."

"And in the meantime?" D questioned, "Will you be overriding any of Colonel Caldwell's changes? As leader of the expedition, you do have that authority."

"Which one is it?" Elizabeth wondered.

"Ma'am?" D replied carefully.

"You wouldn't have reminded me that I can overrule Caldwell," Elizabeth said dryly, "unless you had something specific in mind that you didn't agree with. So which change did he implement that you think should be overruled?"

"The new security protocols," D spoke quietly, "He's rearranged the security personnel in an odd fashion."

"Odd how?" Elizabeth narrowed her eyes.

"He's taken personnel away from guarding critical areas of the City," D explained, "and reassigned them to exploration. While his way allows more protection for the science teams exploring Atlantis, it also weakens the City's defensive posture should any incidents occur. To an outsider like Caldwell, it probably looked like Sheppard was making a rookie mistake by being overly cautious when in reality Sheppard's decision was likely based on his past experiences within the City."

"How is that an odd decision?" Elizabeth questioned, "It sounds like Caldwell is doing what he thinks is best for the City."

"Or purposely taking personnel away from key areas," D countered, "weakening the City in preparation for a military coup."

"You don't really think Colonel Caldwell would do that, do you?" Elizabeth asked warily.

"I am having trouble remaining neutral when it comes to determining Caldwell's motives," D answered carefully, "As I've said before, I don't trust the man."

"You're a very suspicious person, D," Elizabeth shook her head.

"And you are very trusting, Elizabeth," D smiled wryly, "That's why you have me."

"_Dr. Weir_," Chuck's voice came over the radio, "_This is the control room_."

Elizabeth tapped her earpiece, "This is Dr. Weir, go ahead."

"_Major Lorne's team just checked in_, _ma'am_," Chuck informed her, "_They've located an iratus cave and are headed inside now_."

"Thank you, Chuck," Elizabeth acknowledged, "Keep me updated, please."

"_Yes_, _ma'am_," Chuck agreed.

D changed directions, taking Elizabeth's elbow to guide her as they continued down the hallway.

"Where are we going?" Elizabeth raised an eyebrow.

"I assumed," D released Elizabeth, "you'd want to inform Sheppard of the progress in finding a cure."

"Well, yes," Elizabeth said dryly, "But you told me I had to have a chaperone around dangerous men."

"I said 'potentially dangerous people'," D corrected, "Women can be just as dangerous, if not more so, than men. I'll go in with you and wait beside the door while you update him. You won't even notice I'm there."

"I'm sure you'll be discrete," Elizabeth rolled her eyes.

_*AM*AM*AM*AM*AM*AM*AM*_

"The nest is incredibly well protected," Beckett slumped down in the chair, "There are hundreds, maybe even thousands of them. I just don't think it's possible."

"So where does that leave us?" Elizabeth asked warily.

"Without the stem cells," Beckett looked up at Elizabeth sadly, "our plan is not promising."

"I could go, ma'am," D offered after a moment, "If I went alone, it's likely I would be able to-"

"No," Elizabeth shook her head, "We've already lost Walker and Stevens. I won't risk more lives."

"Dr. Weir," D spoke carefully, "Lt. Colonel Sheppard's life is substantially more valuable than mine. You are not ordering me to take this risk, I am volunteering."

"That's not true," Carson scowled.

"Yes, it is," D argued calmly, "Elizabeth hasn't given me any orders. I suggested the idea of going alone to the cave."

"He meant the part about Sheppard's life being more valuable than yours," Elizabeth explained softly.

"Aye," Carson nodded, "Every life is equally valuable."

D looked between the two of them curiously, "Sheppard is the Military Commander of this expedition; his experiences over the last year and a half give him practical insight as to how the Pegasus Galaxy operates. He has the highest concentration of the ATA gene and a natural ability to use Ancient tech. Atlantis herself has blossomed for him, doing whatever he asks of the City. Other than Specialist Dex, he is the foremost expert on the tactics and military capabilities of the Wraith. These things, among many others, make him incredibly difficult to replace. I am expendable, Colonel Sheppard is not."

"Is that what they told you?" Carson questioned angrily, "That you were expendable and could be replaced at any time?"

"Yes," D tilted her head to the side, "It upsets you when I say that. Why?"

"Because it's patently untrue," Carson declared.

"But it _is_ true, Carson," D stated evenly, "There are many others that can do what I do, perhaps not as quickly and efficiently, but they get the job done just the same. Unless you are referring to my unique genetics, in which case I would remind you, you have access to all my medical records and samples of my DNA. With the advances in medicine and genetics in the last twenty years, it's very probable the experiments that led to my unique condition could be replicated easily."

"It's not about your bloody genetics," Carson insisted, "It's about the fact that you are a living, breathing human being. Every human life is valuable, no matter who the person is or what they do or what they contribute. Every life is precious and should be treated as such."

"You are a healer, Carson," D said carefully, "I am not. Our past experiences have given us two very different viewpoints."

"Past experiences?" Carson gaped, "You mean when-"

"Both of you, stop," Elizabeth held up a hand to forestall any further argument, "I will not authorize any further trips to the planet, volunteers or not. The risk is too high, even for you, Dr. Vaughn."

"Yes, ma'am," D inclined her head.

Elizabeth looked down at her desk, "I'll tell Sheppard. He should know the mission failed."

"Respectfully, ma'am," D stepped forward, "with the rate at which Colonel Sheppard's condition is progressing…I think it would be better if I delivered the news alone."

"D," Elizabeth sighed.

"Elizabeth," D straightened, "Whether you believe it or not, _Sheppard periculosum est nunc_." [Latin: Sheppard is dangerous now.]

"Fine," Elizabeth conceded after a long pause, "Go."

"Yes, ma'am," D inclined her head once more as she left.

"It's too bad Dr. James is dead," Carson stood suddenly, "because I'd certainly like to give him a piece of my mind. That man, that _doctor_, and I use that term very loosely, was her step-father. He should've protected her. Instead, he let the CIA turn a beautiful child into someone who truly believes that she is nothing more than an expendable tool to be used by those in power. It's not right."

"She could probably do it, you know," Elizabeth responded quietly, "Dr. Vaughn wouldn't have volunteered to go if she hadn't already calculated the probable outcomes and determined the likelihood of her succeeding was high. If I were to let her go to the planet, there's a very high chance D would be able to retrieve the eggs you need to finish a cure for Sheppard."

"Elizabeth," Carson admonished, "You can't _seriously_ be considering-"

"There is also a chance," Elizabeth continued, "however small, that I would be letting a young woman sacrifice herself on a fool's errand. D's belief that she is somehow unworthy, somehow less than others, is so deeply engrained in her psyche that merely telling her different will accomplish nothing. So, yes, she could get the eggs and save Sheppard, but no, I won't let her go because I will not, I _cannot_ place one life above others. Because however much I want to save John, if I let her go the planet, if I start seeing her as something other than a normal human, as someone different who can be used because of what she is, I'd be no better than the people that told her she was expendable. Actions speak louder than words, Carson."

"You're right," Carson's shoulders slumped forward, "It just infuriates me that in this day and age some people are still treated as less than others. It's not right."

"No, it's not," Elizabeth agreed, "But unfortunately, we can't go back and change the past. We can only learn from it, ensure that we don't make the same mistakes."

"Of course. I'm going to head back to the infirmary," Carson sighed, "Go back through my research, see if I missed something before. Maybe I can come up with another solution."

"Let me know if you need anything," Elizabeth nodded, "And keep me updated."

_*AM*AM*AM*AM*AM*AM*AM*_

"I wouldn't go in there, ma'am," Baumann said cautiously.

"I'll be fine, Sergeant," D assured him, "If he comes out of the room, do not hesitate to stun him."

"Yes, ma'am," Baumann nodded.

Baumann swiped his hand across the control crystals and D stepped inside the dark room. The door slid shut behind her and she let her eyes adjust to the darkness before moving to the center of the room.

"Colonel Sheppard," D spoke evenly, "I have an update on your team's mission. They returned twenty minutes ago."

John appeared silently behind D. She turned to face him, calmly taking in his yellow eyes and the blue scaled skin now covering his neck, small ridges forming along his jawline.

"The nest was too well protected," D informed him, "The team was unable to retrieve the eggs. They did their best-"

"Best?" John questioned flatly.

"The bugs attacked-" D continued.

"Try again," John ordered.

"No," D responded.

"Why?" John asked.

"It's too dangerous," D answered.

"Then kill me now," John commanded.

"No," D repeated.

"It'd be better for all of us," John said.

"Dr. Weir will not allow-" D started again.

"Then try again," John moved closer.

"No," D insisted firmly, "Lt. Walker and Sgt. Stevens were killed. Dr. Weir will not risk more lives."

John surged forward, reaching his hand out to wrap around the front of D's throat. She brought a hand up, slamming it down hard on his forearm as she turned her body to the side to escape his grip. D tried to reach into her pants pocket but John surged forward again, smashing the side of D's face into the pillar behind them, one hand gripping her wrists together behind her back and the other tangled tightly in her hair above the low bun. He pushed her harder into the pillar and pressed against her, leaning forward to draw his nose up the side of her cheek as he inhaled deeply.

"You don't smell of fear," John whispered the words against her skin.

"Because I am not afraid of you," D responded calmly, "I know that you don't really want to hurt me."

"You smell different from the others," John pressed his nose to her cheek again, "You smell of…sea-salt and fresh air."

"Let me go, John," D spoke softly, "You don't want to do this."

John snarled angrily as he tightened his grip on her hair, pulling her head back and slamming it hard into the pillar. As D collapsed to the ground, John ran out of the room, knocking the guards down even as they fired their stunners at him.

D shook her head as she stood unsteadily, walking out of the room to check on the guards. She saw them both laying on the floor and her hand went immediately up to her earpiece, "This is Dr. Vaughn. We have a security breach. Colonel Sheppard's quarters."

Baumann waved her away as he stood, "Stunners barely slowed him down."

"Your head, ma'am," the second guard gestured to the blood running down her face.

"It's fine," D insisted, "Are you injured?"

"We're fine," Baumann nodded, "Permission to go after the Colonel?"

"Yes, but don't engage him," D took off running, shouting over her shoulder, "Follow and observe only," she reached up to tap her earpiece again, "Dr. McKay-"

"_Yeah_, _I'm listening_," Rodney responded quickly, "_I'm already in the control room_."

"We need to locate-" D started.

"_I'm reconfiguring the biometric sensors now_," Rodney interrupted, "_I should be able to use them to search for Sheppard's altered DNA_."

"Good," D turned a corner and stepped into a transporter, "I'll be there in a minute."


	19. Our Plan

D came sprinting into the control room, blood dripping down from her temple to stain the collar of her uniform jacket.

"Did you get the sensors adjusted?" D questioned.

"Yeah," Rodney nodded, "I'm bringing them up now."

"D," Elizabeth grabbed her arm as she walked past, "You're bleeding."

"Sheppard knocked my head into a pillar in his room," D claimed as she pulled away, moving to stand by Rodney, "I'll clean it up after."

"I've got a lock on him," Rodney announced.

"That can't be him," Caldwell insisted, "He's moving too fast."

"That's him," Ronon stated calmly.

"All right," Caldwell turned around to the waiting Marines, "Four teams. Surround him and close in. I want him stopped. And gentlemen, use whatever level force you deem necessary. Move out."

"Belay that order," D commanded, "Stay here until I figure this out."

The Marines froze at the forceful tone of D's voice, looking between her and Caldwell cautiously.

"Excuse me?" Caldwell asked icily.

"Your way won't work," D studied the screen closely, "Be quiet and let me think for a minute."

"I don't know who you think you are-" Caldwell began.

"I'm the one who's going to keep Marines from getting killed because you've no idea what you're up against," D spun around to face Elizabeth, "Do you remember the promise I made you, ma'am?"

"I do," Elizabeth agreed hesitantly.

"Let me keep it," D held her gaze.

Elizabeth looked between Caldwell's furious expression and D's calm stare before she nodded once, "Do what you need to do, Dr. Vaughn."

"Thank you, Elizabeth," D inclined her head and turned back to the large screen.

"This is a military situation," Caldwell argued irately, "I am the highest ranking-"

"Caldwell," D growled, "_Stop_. _Talking_."

"I gave you orders," Caldwell turned back to the Marines, "Follow them or you'll be court-martialed."

"Let me put this in terms you can understand, Colonel," D stepped around Rodney to face Caldwell, hands on her hips, "_No one_ in this room will listen to your orders instead of Dr. Weir's, no matter what you threaten them with, especially when it comes to the safety and welfare of Lt. Colonel Sheppard. Dr. Weir has put me in charge of capturing and containing Colonel Sheppard, which means those men are now waiting for _my _orders. To put it bluntly, they like Elizabeth more than they like you and they respect John more than they respect you. If you want to file a formal complaint when this situation is resolved, I'd be happy to assist you in finding the correct forms and provide you with a list of the personnel involved. Until then, Steven," the irritation in D's voice finally leaked through as she continued harshly, "I advise you to _SHUT THE FUCK UP AND LET ME THINK_."

Stunned silence fell over the room as D finished, rubbing a hand over the blood that had been dripping close to her eye. She looked down at the red smear across her fingers, then closed her eyes and took a single deep breath. She exhaled slowly, then opened her eyes and looked up at Ronon curiously.

"You hunt, Specialist?" D wondered.

"Yes, ma'am," Ronon nodded, "Since I was old enough to hold a weapon."

"We're not tracking a person right now," D tilted her head to the side, "We're hunting an animal. A lone animal that thinks it's been threatened."

"He'll look for pack," Ronon looked thoughtful, "Bait him to flush him out…then trap him."

"Agreed," D wiped the blood from her hand on her pants absently as she turned back to Rodney's console, "Open area?"

"Yeah," Ronon nodded and moved closer to look over D's shoulder at the map on the screen, "With Teyla and a team-"

"-of Marines. Yeah, that should work. Use the stunners to move him, since they don't work anyway. Rodney, lock down all the transporters except these two," D gestured to the screen as she spoke, "and seal off all access to that section, except these two corridors, here and here. Chuck, we need teams of four in each of the corridors armed with stunners and P90s. Their main objective is containment. Tell them to make sure Sheppard doesn't get past them, no matter what. Teyla, you're in the center here with Williams' team. Sheppard will come after you, so you'll need to push him back towards Ronon, who will be-"

"-there," Ronon pointed to the screen.

"Your objective is Sheppard's capture," D nodded, "Subdue him as quickly as possible and call the medics to retrieve him."

"The civilians in that area?" Elizabeth questioned, "Is anyone else in danger?"

"Only life-signs left in that section are the space Marines. Everyone else is already moving to designated safe areas," Rodney responded quickly, already following D's instructions, "Chuck, lock down the Stargate."

"Doing it now, sir," Chuck began tapping the console in front of him, "The requested security teams are moving into place. Additional security personnel are moving into all critical areas."

"Teyla, take this," D pulled a syringe from her back pocket, "I didn't get a chance to use this before he escaped. It's loaded with enough tranquilizer to take him down, even with his altered DNA, but make sure he gets at least three-quarters of it or he won't stay out more than a couple minutes. He's a lot stronger and a lot faster than normal. If he gets too close-"

"I will not hesitate," Teyla accepted the needle.

"Even if he doesn't get close enough," D instructed, "inject the entire dose directly into his carotid after-"

"I knock him out," Ronon grinned as he turned to leave.

"What he said," D rolled her eyes at Ronon's retreating back, "It'll keep him out until Beckett's team gets there."

"Go," Elizabeth ordered and the room began to clear, "And be careful."

"Dr. Beckett," D tapped her earpiece, "This is Dr. Vaughn."

"_Beckett here_," Carson answered, "_Did you locate the Colonel already_? _Do you need me somewhere_?"

"Working on that now. He should be in custody in ten minutes or less," D informed him, "In the meantime…the section in the database on the iratus bug, did it say anything about pheromones? I only skimmed it, I didn't read it thoroughly."

"_I think I remember reading something about that_," Carson replied easily, "_Why do you ask_?"

"Colonel Sheppard sniffed me," D said calmly.

"He sniffed you?" Rodney looked away from the console to eye D strangely, "What do you mean 'he sniffed you'?"

"He said," D gave Rodney a harsh look to silence him, "that I didn't smell of fear. That I smelled different from the others, like sea-salt and fresh air. The combination made him angry enough to overcome his human instinct to protect and he smashed my face into the wall so he could escape."

"_I'll look into it immediately_," Carson agreed, "_If his reaction is pheromone based as you think, it might be the solution we're looking for. Come to the infirmary as soon as you can so I can look at your head._"

"Call Dr. Weir if you find anything before we reacquire the Colonel," D tapped her earpiece off.

"Sheppard _sniffed_ you?" Rodney repeated incredulously.

"Rodney," Elizabeth warned, "Concentrate please."

"Right," Rodney snarked as he looked back at the screen, "Feral Colonel on the loose. Sheppard could be sniffing innocent civilians as we speak, better not waste any time."

D snorted in amusement, "I'm telling Sheppard you said that when he's back to normal."

"That's your brilliant plan?" Caldwell crossed his arms across his chest, "Use Teyla as bait and tranq him?"

"No, and it's not just my plan," D clenched her jaw as she answered, "_Our_ plan is to draw Sheppard into a wide open space using the only person in the City that has similar DNA, which for complicated biochemical reasons to complex for your brain to comprehend, he will actively seek out in his animalistic state. Then Ms. Emmagan, in conjunction with Sgt. Williams' team, will use their mostly ineffective stun weapons to herd him toward the area where Specialist Dex is waiting with what is possibly the only weapon in the entire City that will subdue Sheppard without causing him harm. The tranquilizer is a merely a back-up weapon for Ms. Emmagan should the Colonel get close enough and a guarantee that he will stay unconscious until Dr. Beckett's team can take him to the infirmary."

"And if your plan doesn't work?" Caldwell snapped, "Then what?"

"Then Colonel Sheppard is trapped in a small section of the City," D turned to give him an annoyed sneer, "with thirteen people armed with submachine guns and one person who has Wraith-tested hand-to-hand combat skills and an advanced energy-based weapon. If Sheppard _somehow_ manages to make it past all of them _and_ has the cognitive abilities to override the security protocols McKay has instituted, the Stargate has been locked down and there are additional security teams moving to all critical points within the City, including the jumper bay, preventing the Colonel from escaping that way. All security personnel have standing orders to subdue any and all threats with the minimum level of force necessary. They also have orders to use lethal levels of force should their lives, the lives of civilian personnel, or any critical equipment be endangered. Should he make it past the additional personnel, _again_ overriding the security lock-outs in place to make it all the way to the main control room, Sgt. Campbell knows to remove and destroy the control crystal in the DHD to prevent any chance of Sheppard reaching Earth. At that point, Sheppard will be stranded in a floating City, surrounded by hundreds of kilometers of salt water, something we know the iratus bug hates. In the short amount of time I was allowed to concentrate fully on the problem at hand, I calculated and dismissed close to a thousand scenarios before finally choosing the one that had the best chance of succeeding. I used the resources at hand - Ronon's past experiences, Rodney's technical expertise, Teyla's unique DNA and grace under pressure - to implement a course of action, including several back-ups plans should the primary one fail. You'll be hard-pressed to find anything that I haven't already taken into account. Believe it or not, Colonel, the people stationed here are extremely capable and they do know what they're doing."

"It's not them I'm concerned with," Caldwell said coolly.

"I see. It's just me you have a problem with then," D smiled dangerously, "In that case, I'd like to take this opportunity to inform you that I-"

"Dr. Vaughn has my full confidence," Elizabeth stepped forward determinedly, "as does _every other person_ of expedition. Each and every one of them, both civilian and military, were chosen with great care. If you have a problem with the way things are being done here, I suggest you take it up with the IOA next time you're on Earth, Colonel."

"Believe me," Caldwell glared at the two women standing in front of him, "I will."

"He's in the same section as Teyla," Rodney announced, "I'm locking down the last two transporters and all remaining access routes. Sheppard's trapped in that section now."

"Can you bring up the security feeds?" Elizabeth moved to Rodney's other side.

_*AM*AM*AM*AM*AM*AM*AM*_

"I put him in a medically induced coma for now," Carson gently cleaned the dried blood from the side of D's face, "I was afraid he'd break through the restraints."

"That's a good idea, Doctor," Caldwell agreed.

"So what now?" Elizabeth wondered.

"Did you get a chance to look up that information?" D turned to look up at Carson.

"Hold still, dear," Carson moved D's head back the other way, "I did look through the database again and you were right about the pheromones."

"What does that mean?" Caldwell questioned.

"When we were in the cave," Carson explained, "those bugs knew we didn't belong there, so they didn't really fancy us getting close to their nest."

"If Carson's team can artificially create the pheromone exuded by the adult iratus bug," D continued, holding her head still this time, "it might be able to confuse the bugs in the cave long enough to allow a small team to retrieve the eggs."

"Except I don't think we have enough time to produce the pheromone," Carson frowned, "Fortunately, the fact that Sheppard's mutation has progressed as far as it has may be his salvation."

"Explain that," Elizabeth commanded.

"I checked when he was brought in and it looks like his sweat glands are actually producing trace amounts of their signature pheromone," Carson clarified, "He's the only person on this base that wouldn't need the artificial pheromone. He could walk right in that cave and those bugs wouldn't pay him any mind."

"Dr. Beckett," D cautioned, "Colonel Sheppard is not thinking clearly right now. I'm not sure that's the best idea."

"As much as I hate to say it," Caldwell sneered at D, "I agree with Dr. Vaughn."

"_Posso per favore lo ha colpito_?" D asked sweetly. [Italian: Can I please hit him?]

"Not right now," Elizabeth shook her head, "What are you suggesting, Dr. Beckett?"

"He stopped taking the inhibitor we were administering. It was able to keep him lucid," Carson replied, "Although the effectiveness was wearing off, I believe if we give him another massive dose, he may be clear-headed enough to complete the mission before we lose him completely."

"Giving Sheppard that much viral inhibitor all at once could potentially kill him," D said cautiously.

"Yes, it's a definite possibility," Carson agreed, "Even if I knew it was for certain, I'd be tempted to offer him one last hour of lucidity."

All three of them turned to look at Elizabeth.

"Do it," Elizabeth straightened.

"I'll get ready to leave immediately," D stood, "I'd like to take Ronon with me, as an extra precaution."

"No, you've a concussion at the very least," Carson grabbed her arm to stop her, "You're staying here. You're going straight into the scanner to make sure the Colonel didn't crack that thick skull of yours, then I'm going to suture this wound and check the bruising on your wrists."

"It's a grade one concussion, Carson," D protested, "and _small_ linear skull fracture. I don't need-"

"I'll contact Sheppard's team, D," Elizabeth interrupted, laying her hand on D's other arm, "They'll escort him to the cave. Dr. Beckett can go with to monitor the Colonel's condition. Marie can take care of your injuries here."

"But what about…?" D scowled slightly.

"I'll keep Major Lorne with me," Elizabeth smiled, "Satisfied?"

"Not really," D grumbled, "But if you insist, ma'am."

_*AM*AM*AM*AM*AM*AM*AM*_

"It's not gonna happen overnight," Carson came out from behind the privacy screens, "You can bet on that, but the transformation has begun to reverse itself."

"So eventually he'll be back in uniform?" Caldwell questioned.

"Eventually," Carson nodded in agreement.

"Well done, Carson," Rodney snarked, "for once again elevating medicine to actual science."

"Well, thank you, Rodney," Carson mostly ignored the other man's sarcasm.

"We'll all finally be able to get some sleep," Elizabeth said.

"Speaking of sleep," Carson looked to Elizabeth, "Dr. Vaughn is off-duty for the next two days. She ended up with a minor skull fracture, a mild concussion, and ten stitches for the laceration on her temple. I'm keeping her here in the infirmary to make sure she actually gets some rest, then she's on restricted duty for the next week. I've already had to take her tablet away twice and Marie stopped her from escaping again half an hour ago, so if she shows up in your office…"

"Send her back here and call you, got it," Elizabeth shook her head, "Please keep me updated on both of them."

"Aye," Carson nodded as Elizabeth turned to leave.

"If and when Colonel Sheppard resumes his duties," Caldwell followed Elizabeth out of the infirmary, "I hope he'll consider some of the changes that I've made."

"_When_ he does," Elizabeth replied, "that'll be up to him."

"And as to the matter of Dr. Vaughn's insubordination," Caldwell looked back to the infirmary, "I'm willing to attribute her inappropriate behavior to the injuries she received from Colonel Sheppard…_this_ _time_."

"That's very understanding of you, Colonel," Elizabeth spoke diplomatically, "Will you be leaving soon or are you sticking around a bit longer?"

"Daedalus will head back to Earth in less than a week," Caldwell answered, "I'll be out of your hair in no time."

"We'll try to manage without you until you get back," Elizabeth turned to head up the stairs.

"Despite what you might think of my intentions, Doctor Weir," Caldwell called after her, "I'm not your enemy."

Elizabeth turned back around to smile at Caldwell, "Believe me, Colonel, you don't want to be."


	20. Efficacy

"Relax," D placed a steady hand between Elizabeth's shoulder blades, "You're tensing up."

"I don't see why this is necessary," Elizabeth protested.

"I want you to be able to protect yourself," D reminded her, "in case another incident comes up and I'm not able to be there."

"Is this because I let Carson keep you on restricted duty?" Elizabeth asked dryly.

"Yes, ma'am," D smirked, "Now…take a deep breath and concentrate."

Elizabeth inhaled and exhaled several times, feeling her muscles slowly relax.

"Good, hold on to that relaxed feeling," D said quietly, dropping her hand and stepping back, "Remember, squeeze don't pull."

Elizabeth squeezed the trigger of the gun she held, firing several shots into the paper target at the other end of the room.

"Stop," D ordered and Elizabeth paused, "You're holding too tight with your dominant hand. It's making you pull your shots to the right," D moved forward, adjusting Elizabeth's grip carefully, "Keep your hand like that and finish the clip."

Elizabeth emptied the remainder of the clip into the target, a satisfied look coming across her face as she saw the placement of the holes when she finished.

"Better," D smiled as Elizabeth lowered the gun to her side.

"I still don't like guns," Elizabeth insisted.

"Neither do I," D shrugged and went to replace the used target with a new one, "That doesn't mean you shouldn't learn how to use them properly. Especially in a place like this."

"You don't like guns?" Elizabeth asked curiously.

"For very different reasons than you, I'm sure," D held out a full clip, "Again."

"Why don't you like them?" Elizabeth reloaded the gun awkwardly, her movements still unsure.

"They're imprecise and somewhat unreliable," D accepted the empty clip from Elizabeth, placing it on a nearby shelf, "I prefer close-range weapons so I know exactly how much damage I'm doing to a target. Most people use them incorrectly anyway."

"How do you use a gun incorrectly?" Elizabeth wondered, "The barrel goes towards the person you're trying to hurt and you squeeze – not pull – the trigger."

D raised an eyebrow and came closer to Elizabeth, stopping just outside arm's reach, "Point the gun at me, ma'am."

"What?" Elizabeth questioned warily, "Why?"

"Do it, please," D smiled patiently.

Elizabeth looked down at the weapon in her hands, remembering to check the safety before she raised the gun, aiming it towards D in a careful two-handed grip.

D began quietly, "The mistake most people make…" she slapped Elizabeth in the wrist with one hand, twisting the gun from her hands and ejecting the clip onto the floor with the other. D dropped the gun to the floor after the clip, moving forward into her space and pulling Elizabeth's head back with a firm grip on her hair as she brought a small curved knife up to Elizabeth's throat, "…is they get too close. Guns have a very specific range of efficacy. They are a long distance weapon. Get too close and you lose your advantage."

"Okay," Elizabeth held very still.

"Also, if you remember nothing else today, remember this," D held Elizabeth's eyes, "A gun is a weapon made for only one purpose – death. It's not for threats, it's not for hurting someone – it is made to end life. Don't ever point a gun at someone you aren't willing to kill."

"I understand," Elizabeth replied cautiously, "Does the same go for holding knives to someone's throat?"

"Usually," D smiled as she released the taller woman and stepped back, "But not in this case and definitely not with this knife."

Elizabeth rubbed a hand over her throat, "How so?"

D uncurled her fist, holding out the knife for Elizabeth to inspect. It was one solid piece of silver steel, only slightly larger than D's open hand, and curved to fit snugly into her palm. A black cord was wrapped around the small hilt, just below the ring where D's index finger was still holding it. The short, curved blade was dull on both sides.

"It's a called a karambit," D explained, "This particular model is used for training, so both edges have been dulled to keep from hurting your partner or yourself. It can also be a useful tool for controlling an opponent when you don't want to hurt them. It's small, easily concealed, and with a sharp blade, extremely dangerous. This is my weapon of choice. It's just as deadly as nine-nil, but it never runs out of ammo, and it's easier to hide so I can carry one, or more, without most people noticing."

"If neither of us like guns," Elizabeth sighed and bent to pick up the pieces of her discarded gun from the floor, "Then why are you teaching me to shoot? Why aren't you teaching me some sort of self-defense instead?"

"We're going to the gym next week. I intend to teach you both," D answered easily, "but we're starting with this because I'd prefer you keep your distance from people who intend to hurt you. Three more clips, ma'am."

"Slave driver," Elizabeth turned to face the paper targets again.

"If you hit the center circle," D smiled, "at least fifty percent of the time, I'll make sure you get first dibs on the new coffee flavors on the next supply run."

"Bribery won't get you anywhere, D," Elizabeth rolled her eyes.

"There's french vanilla, Elizabeth," D stepped behind Elizabeth's right shoulder, "and coconut mocha."

Elizabeth laughed warmly, "All right, bribery _might_ get you somewhere."

_*AM*AM*AM*AM*AM*AM*AM*_

"Hello, Colonel," D set the last box of bullets back in the cabinet and shut the door, engaging the lock, "Something I can help you with?"

"How'd you know it was me?" John stepped into the room.

"G-3, B flat-3, D flat-4," D turned to face him, "Something bothering you today, Sheppard?"

A moment of confusion came over John's face, "What?"

"Atlantis," D pointed a finger at the ceiling, "Normally, she sings G-3, B-3, D-4, G-4 for you."

"_What_?" John repeated.

"I have perfect pitch," D explained patiently, "The City sings different things for different people, sometimes even changes her song according to their moods. You're normally several different variations of a G major chord, but when you're upset or nervous about something, you're variations of a G diminished chord. Rodney is usually a B major seventh chord with a fifth. B dominant seventh with a fifth if he's been in the lab all day. Most days Elizabeth is a C suspended chord followed by a C suspended second chord."

"I…" John looked at D oddly, "Okay?"

"It's not important, just an observation," D shook her head and started to leave, "I'm glad to see you back in uniform, Colonel."

"Wait," John stepped in front of the door to stop her from leaving, "I came in here to talk to you."

"We did talk," D raised an eyebrow, "Unless you had a different topic of conversation in mind."

"I did," John drawled, "but then you started auditioning for a bingo caller and I got distracted."

D tilted her head to the side, "A bingo caller?"

"You know," John gestured to her, "G3, B3, and so on."

"Those are names for notes on a piano," D clarified, "They have nothing to do with bingo."

"I know," John replied carefully, "It was supposed to be a joke."

D blinked at him twice before smiling politely and trying to step around him, "Of course. Have a good evening."

"Are you purposely deflecting so you don't have to talk to me?" John asked idly.

"Again, Colonel," D looked up at him, "I am _already_ talking to you. You'll have to be more specific."

"I wanted to apologize," John scrubbed a hand over the back of his neck, "for…you know…"

"For slamming me into a pillar?" D suggested, "For smelling me like a fresh-cut flower?"

"Both," John admitted uncomfortably.

"You weren't thinking rationally," D responded easily, "No harm was done."

"Beckett said you ended up with a cracked skull," John pointed briefly to the jagged pink line still on her temple, "and a bunch of stitches."

"I heal fast. It won't even leave a permanent scar," D shrugged, "Honestly, I'm more annoyed that Carson put me on light duty for an entire week."

"I've already apologized to everyone else, including Elizabeth and Teyla," John winced slightly at the second name, "but you're a little hard to pin down."

"Just follow the chords, Sheppard," D smiled softly as she stepped past him, "G flat minor ninth, followed by G flat diminished seventh."

"About that other thing," John's steady voice stopped her, "The part where you threatened to shoot me in the head with Baumann's nine-mil."

D turned back to John with a practiced neutral expression, "What about it, Colonel?"

"I think we need to talk about what you're really doing here, Doctor," John straightened.

"Here in this room?" D gave him a crooked smile, "Here in the City? Here in Pegasus? Here in the universe? Perhaps you mean 'here' in a more general 'meaning of life' sense. There are so many choices, Colonel, I'm not sure which one to address first."

"What exactly did you mean," John asked carefully, "when you said you were here to make sure Dr. Weir stays the leader of Atlantis and that you would deal with any threats against her?"

"I said exactly what I meant," D responded smoothly, "and if you'll remember the next thing I told you, you'll know that I'm not really interested in discussing the subject with you any further."

"If Elizabeth is in some kind of trouble, I need to know about it," John insisted, "I can't protect her if I don't know what's going on."

D moved closer, a predatory smile coming across her face as she leaned up against him, "Worried about her, John?"

"Yeah," John looked down at D uneasily, "Of course I'm worried about her."

"Because she's your friend?" D trailed her hand slowly down John's right arm, "Or is your concern because Elizabeth is more than just a _friend_ to you?"

"That's none of your business," the tips of John's ears pinked.

D pulled John's gun from the holster at his thigh, raised her arm out to the side, and fired three quick shots, all without looking away from his face.

"It's _none_ of your business what I'm doing here," D slipped the gun silently back into his holster, the smile still firmly in place, "If and when you need to know any different, it will be up to Dr. Weir to tell you," D put a hand on the side of John's stunned face, turning his head towards the paper targets, "Though I doubt it will become necessary. It's not your job to protect her, Colonel Sheppard."

John narrowed his eyes as he saw three neat holes, one in each target hanging across the room. All three holes were in the exact spot that would've been between the eyes if the targets were people instead of paper. He turned back to D as she dropped her hand and stepped back. Her smile was gone and the neutral expression slipped back into place as she clasped her hands behind her back.

"Where did General O'Neill find you exactly?" John asked suspiciously.

"In his bedroom," D shrugged.

"Elizabeth-Dr. Weir," John corrected himself, "said that some dangerous people were looking for you, is that true?"

"No, she didn't," D argued.

"Yes, she did," John insisted, "After you flipped out on McKay."

"Did Elizabeth come right out and say someone was looking for me?" D questioned, "Or did you ask her a question and she gave you exactly the answer you were looking for?"

"She…" John stopped, his lips coming together in a firm line.

"How did you know where I was, Colonel Sheppard?" D asked curiously.

"The City-" John started.

"Wouldn't tell you where I was without my permission," D tilted her head to the side, "You said you apologized to everyone else, including Elizabeth and Teyla, but you were only released this morning. My guess is you apologized to Ms. Emmagan first, since your sense of decency would demand it, considering what happened between the two of you."

"How did you-" John questioned.

"You wouldn't have worn your uniform for that apology, however," D continued, ignoring his attempted interruption, "because the incident was personal. You also said 'everyone else', so I would assume that included Ronon and the Marines that you attacked. You changed into your uniform for that because you wanted all of them, especially Ronon, to see that you're still a capable commander. You and Rodney didn't have any direct confrontations, but you would've apologized to him next because he's your best friend. He's the one that told you what happened between Caldwell, Elizabeth, and me in the control room. Probably went on for at least half an hour about how we were all yelling at each other, which wasn't true, and how Elizabeth backed me instead of Caldwell, which was true. While the first part you would've easily dismissed as Rodney exaggerating or tempers running hot during a tense situation, the second part would've piqued your curiosity. Elizabeth is not the type to make decisions regarding the welfare of the City recklessly, so there must have been a very good reason she chose to let me handle the situation. Elizabeth's been with me all day, however, and you wouldn't want to ask her about it while I was around. So you went to talk to Carson, knowing that he's such a horrible gossip that he could give you at least some of the information you were looking for. That's when he told you that everything in the control room happened while I was concussed and bleeding, with a crack in my skull. More pieces for the puzzle in your mind. Elizabeth left here an hour ago, but I stayed to practice and to clean up," a slow smile began spreading across D's face, "_That's_ what you asked the City. Not where I was, but when Elizabeth was alone. An hour gave you just enough time to apologize to her and ask her questions about what happened. Knowing Elizabeth, she gave you the watered down version, thinking that would satisfy you without giving too much away. You were still curious after talking to her, but you couldn't come right out and ask her about me without telling her what I said to you that day. Instead, you asked her where I was so you could come apologize to me, hoping you'd be able to charm or intimidate more information out of me. _Quam teneant_. You may play dumb, Colonel, but you're actually quite clever." [Latin: How fascinating.]

"Thanks," John crossed his arms across his chest, "You done?"

"Not quite," D took half a step forward, "I'm not like the rest of the people here, Sheppard. You want to play the pretty flyboy with charm to spare for them, that's fine, but don't do it with me. I know better now."

"Fine," John dropped his arms and took his own step forward, "But that goes both ways. You want to play the harmless sex kitten with an IQ to rival McKay's for everyone else, go ahead. Don't do it with me. I know better now."

"My IQ does rival McKay's," D smirked, "but then, yours is nothing to scoff at either. Do we understand each other, Colonel?"

"We do, Doctor," John nodded curtly, "But I still want answers."

"I'm not going to give you any more information about myself, Sheppard," D tilted her chin up.

"Not about you," John clarified, "About Elizabeth."

"I've made it clear that Dr. Weir doesn't need your protection, Colonel," D narrowed her eyes, "Why are you still concerned for her?"

"Because Elizabeth is…" John faltered, "She's…"

"_Suspiravitque ut vos quoque_. _Alio tempore fuisset in quæ Regina_," D rolled her eyes, "You can ask your questions, Colonel, but I can't guarantee I'll answer them." [Latin: She got to you too. She would have been Queen in another time.]

"Is Elizabeth in danger here?" John asked carefully.

"She lives in an alien City that's at the center of a war with an alien species that feed on humans," D replied flippantly, "I'm going to go with yes on that one."

"Did O'Neill assign you to Atlantis to protect her?" John questioned.

"I can't answer that," D shook her head.

John clenched his fists at his sides, "Can you tell me if there are people on Earth after Elizabeth?"

"No," D answered.

"No, they're not after her," John's jaw tightened, "or no, you can't tell me?"

"No, I can't tell you," D paused, evaluating John's carefully contained frustration before she continued tentatively, "But hypothetically, some very powerful people could want Dr. Weir out of the way so someone else could take her position as leader of the Atlantis expedition. These powerful people might want someone in charge who was more open to their requests, someone more willing to follow orders, someone less…_stubborn_. If such a hypothetical situation were to occur, General O'Neill would be opposed to the wrong people getting their hands on advanced technology and might implement a rather unconventional solution to the problem."

"Would O'Neill's solution-" John started.

"Hypothetical solution," D interjected.

"-hypothetical solution," John continued easily, "involve sending a socially awkward and slightly bizarre genius who appears to be extremely proficient with firearms to Atlantis as Dr. Weir's bodyguard?"

"I'm not biz-" D scowled and huffed out a sigh, "Hypothetically, Jack sometimes comes up with some ridiculous ideas that involve assigning an intelligent person with unpracticed social skills as a bodyguard to a woman who thinks every problem can be solved by talking it out."

"Hypothetically," John smirked.

"Right," D nodded.

"Why are you telling me all this?" John's expression turned serious, "Hypothetically."

"Elizabeth trusts you," D held John's stare, "There has to be a reason for that. Since I am still undecided, I'm choosing to go with her judgment."

"Thanks," John shoved his hands in his pockets, "for _almost_ telling me."

"I'd appreciate it," D smiled politely, "if you didn't speak with anyone else about this _hypothetical_ situation. I'm still in the process of determining who can be trusted."

"What hypothetical situation?" John smirked, "All I remember is a conversation about bingo."

"Yeah," D muttered under her breath, "_YA stranno odin_." [Russian: I'm the strange one.]

"Are you aware you mumble in Russian when you're annoyed?" John drawled lazily.

"One of my instructors was former KGB," D shrugged, "I probably picked it up from him. He was pretty cranky."

"Right," John looked at D oddly again, "Cranky former KGB instructor. I'm not even going to ask."

* * *

**Efficacy: the ability to produce a desired or intended result.**


	21. Fascinating Work

John moved in front of D as she tried to leave again.

"Sheppard," D sighed and looked up at him, "I have other things to do this evening besides talk to you. Is this going to take much longer?"

"Just to clarify," John said uneasily, "I wasn't using the apology to get information from you."

"Weren't you?" D asked coolly, "I find that difficult to believe, considering you haven't yet apologized."

"Yes, I did," John protested.

"No, you didn't," D maintained, "Your exact words were 'I _wanted_ to apologize for…you know…'. I remember everything since I was three years old, Sheppard. I can't recall a single incident of you _actually_ apologizing to me."

"Are you really going to make me say the words?" John scowled slightly.

"But, John," D blinked innocently, "How else will I know you really mean it?"

"Is this because I called you bizarre?" John asked warily.

"Yes," D smiled widely, "and I believe your exact words were-"

"I'm sorry," John interrupted, "for hurting you."

"And?" D prompted.

John winced, "And for…_sniffing_ you."

"Now was that so bad, Sheppard?" D smirked.

"Remind me never to get on your bad side, Vaughn," John rolled his eyes.

"Elizabeth says I've developed a vindictive streak," D gave John an assessing look, "If you really want me to believe your apology, you could talk to her about this idea she has that I need to participate in the City's social activities. She's somehow gotten the impression that I work too much and that I need to 'have more fun', as she put it. I keep trying to tell her that working is fun for me, but maybe if you explain it to her, she'll stop pestering me about it."

"Beckett also said," John cocked his head to the side, "that you took my place as his most difficult patient. Something about taking your tablet away over a dozen times. Also something about your escape attempts numbering in the double digits in the two days you were there."

"Carson is a damn nag," D sulked, "I was still perfectly capable of getting work done while I was trapped in that stupid infirmary."

"I think Elizabeth might be right," John smirked, "You need to do something besides work."

D put her hands on her hips and glared up at John, "You are _not_ a helpful person, Sheppard."

"Shouldn't have just accepted my first apology," John drawled, "How about a compromise, Vaughn?"

"I'm listening," D raised an eyebrow at him.

"A small group of us get together twice a week to watch movies," John explained, "We take turns picking the movie and there's even popcorn and beer now that the _Daedalus_ is making regular supply runs."

"I wouldn't want to intrude," D shook her head.

"It's not an intrusion if you're invited," John pointed out.

"How small a group?" D asked cautiously.

"No one you don't already know," John responded, "McKay, Teyla, and Ronon are almost always there. Zelenka, Beckett, Lorne, Parrish, and Miko usually show up if they're not busy. Even Elizabeth's stopped by a couple times. If you come to movie night this week, Elizabeth can't complain that you're always working and you don't have to be around big groups of people."

D narrowed her eyes at John, "Are you inviting me because you like to annoy Rodney and you figure the two of us will end up arguing?"

"If I say yes," John grinned, "are you still going to show up?"

"If you say no," D returned his grin, "I'm going to try Dr. Esposito's salsa dancing class instead."

_*AM*AM*AM*AM*AM*AM*AM*_

"What is it?" Elizabeth asked curiously.

"That," Rodney pointed to the screen proudly, "is the signature of an Ancient ship called the _Aurora_. With the ZedPM now powering the city, we've been reactivating dormant systems. That one tracked the location of Ancient ships during the war."

"A warship?" John looked up at Rodney happily.

"See, look at his eyes all lighting up again," Rodney rolled his eyes, "It's Pavlovian."

"Not just him that's excited," D smothered a smile with her hand, "G major ninth with a fifth and B ninth."

"Bingo," John snorted.

"Do you mind?" Rodney scowled at them.

"It's a fascinating discovery, Dr. McKay," D dropped her hand, neutral expression in place again.

"I cross-checked the logs," Rodney turned back to the screen, "They were on a reconnaissance mission. When we activated the ZedPM, the city must have sent out some kind of an automated subspace beacon recalling ships back to Atlantis."

"How long before it gets here?" Elizabeth wondered.

"Well, given that it's at the edge of the Pegasus galaxy," Rodney pretended to count on his fingers, "let me see...carry the four...forty-two million years. Should we go wait on the porch?"

"So we take a Jumper through the nearest Stargate," John suggested, "check it out."

"Clever," Rodney smirked, "but wrong."

"There are no Stargates in that particular region of space," D studied the screen behind Rodney, "The closest gate is…about two hundred fifty-three hours by jumper."

"Oh wait, let me guess," Rodney snarked, "You memorized the entire Pegasus galaxy because it's your job."

"Don't be ridiculous, Rodney," D arched an eyebrow, "I don't think even _I_ could memorize an entire galaxy."

"Oh," Rodney deflated slightly, "Then how did you…?"

"I memorized the addresses of the planets with Stargates on or around them," D continued, "I calculated the distance between the _Aurora's _relative position in space and the nearest planet with a gate. Then, taking into account the average speed of the jumpers, I calculated the time it would take to traverse that distance. Two hundred fifty-three hours is only an estimate, of course, not an exact time."

"If it's too far out to go by jumper," Elizabeth spoke quickly to hold off the brewing argument from Rodney, "That leaves us only one way to get there."

"Did I say two hundred fifty-three?" D smiled politely, "I must've miscalculated. _Quelle idiote je fais_. I meant fifty-three. That's not an unreasonable amount of time to spend in a jumper." [French: How silly of me.]

"Dr. Vaughn," Elizabeth cautioned.

"Dr. Weir," D responded evenly.

"_Allons-nous vraiment avoir cette conversation à chaque fois?_" Elizabeth sighed. [French: Are we really going to have this conversation every time?]

"_Mon opinion de cet homme n'a pas change_," D insisted, "_Surtout après ce qui s'est passé_." [French: My opinion of the man has not changed.] [French: Especially after what happened.]

"_Rien ne s'est passé_," Elizabeth argued, "_Il a dit qu'il ne porterait pas plainte contre vous_." [French: Nothing happened.] [French: He said he wouldn't press charges against you.]

"_Cela le rend encore plus suspect à mes yeux_," D shook her head, "_On ne devrait pas lui faire confiance pour quelque chose de cette importance_." [French: That only makes me more suspicious of him.] [French: He should not be trusted with something this important.]

"_Il ne s'occupe que du transport_," Elizabeth replied calmly, "_Que pourrait-il faire_?" [French: He's only providing transportation.] [French: What could he do?]

"_Voulez-vous la liste alphabétique ou chronologique_?" D retorted blandly. [French: Would you like the list alphabetically or chronologically?]

"_J'envoie l'équipe de _Sheppard_ pour vérifier le vaisseau_," Elizabeth offered, "_Vous pouvez aller avec eux, garder un œil sur _Caldwell_, si cela peut vous rassurer__._" [French: I'm sending Sheppard's team to check out the ship.] [French: You can go with them, keep an eye on Caldwell, if it will make you feel better.]

D gave Elizabeth a flat stare, "_YA luchshe vydolbit' moi sobstvennyye glaza s rzhavoy lozhkoy, chem zastryat' na etom korable s nim_." [Russian: I'd rather gouge my own eyes out with a rusty spoon than be stuck on that ship with him.]

"A rusty spoon, D?" Elizabeth asked incredulously.

"A rusty sundae spoon, ma'am," D agreed, "It's thin, fairly delicate, and not at all suited for gouging. Especially if it's rusted over."

"What?" Rodney looked between the two women, "Why are you talking about spoons right now? Who's gouging things? Why are you bringing up spoons when there's an Ancient ship to check out?"

"Is there a problem, Elizabeth?" John drawled.

"No problem," Elizabeth raised an eyebrow at D, "Dr. Vaughn and I were just having a quick discussion. Colonel, have your team ready to go in an hour. You'll be catching a ride on the _Daedalus_ to check out the _Aurora_."

"We'll be ready," John pushed off the console he had been leaning against.

"I still don't understand what spoons have to do with anything," Rodney huffed.

"I don't think we were supposed to understand," John shrugged, pausing next to D as he started to leave, "Former DGSE instructor?"

"Don't be silly, Sheppard," D smiled coyly, looking up at him from under her lashes, "I slept with the French Ambassador and his wife. Lovely couple. A bit boring for my tastes, though. I prefer more enthusiasm in my partners."

"You slept with…you…_what_?" Rodney spluttered and flushed red.

"Dr. Vaughn," Elizabeth admonished.

"What?" D smiled innocently at Elizabeth, "I was only answering Sheppard's question."

"Both at the same time?" John wondered, grinning widely.

"Of course," D nodded, "And I have to say; she was much better. Very talented tongue...for languages."

Rodney's jaw dropped, his mouth opening and closing several times as he tried to form words.

"John, please go get your team ready to leave," Elizabeth commanded, barely holding back her smile, "D, stop teasing Rodney."

"Yes, ma'am," D inclined her head, hiding her smirk.

"Come on, Rodney," John dragged a still sputtering Rodney away with a strong grip on his arm, "Ancient warship to go check out, remember?"

_*AM*AM*AM*AM*AM*AM*AM*_

"We monitored all transmissions from the Wraith cruisers prior to the explosion," Rodney informed them, "They never got a chance to board the _Aurora_ or upload any of the Ancient information."

"Both cruisers were destroyed in the explosion," Caldwell added.

"It's too bad we weren't able to figure out the Wraith weakness," Ronon sat forward in his chair.

"At least we found out they had one," John pointed out.

"Everyone has a weakness, Sheppard," D spoke absently, "Even the Wraith. You just have to know where to look. _Zhèxiē jìshù guīfàn shì mírén de_." [Chinese: These technical specifications are fascinating.]

"English, Red," Rodney huffed.

"I thought I did use English," D looked up from the tablet she was studying, "Didn't I?"

"Never mind," Rodney rolled his eyes as he stood.

"Good work," Elizabeth stood from her chair, "Thank you, everyone."

"Uh, before we break up the party," John reached down next to him to pick up a bottle of champagne, "there's something I'd like to do. Might seem a little strange, but I promised to do something when we got home."

Elizabeth retrieved a silver tray from the shelf behind her desk, holding seven short clear glasses with wide rims and a transparent blue base.

"I can do that, ma'am," D offered.

"I've got it, thanks," Elizabeth smiled.

Elizabeth held the tray steady as everyone stood, taking one of the glasses as John carefully opened the bottle of champagne. Elizabeth set the mostly empty tray back down on her desk, taking the last two glasses herself. The group held the glasses out in front of them as John poured a small amount of the bubbly liquid into each glass. He accepted the second glass from Elizabeth, raising it in the air to meet everyone else's.

"To the crew of the _Aurora_," John announced quietly and everyone clinked their glasses together. Ronon took a hesitant sip from his glass then joined Rodney in drinking the glass down in one long swallow. Everyone else sipped theirs at a more sedate pace, except D, who only held the glass out to Ronon as she started mumbling to herself, engrossed in the tablet she held once more.

"Don't like it?" Ronon questioned as he accepted her glass.

"_Dāng wǒ de gōngzuò, wǒ bù hējiǔ_," D waved a hand at him as she moved past, transferring the data from the tablet to the large screen on the wall. She started mumbling to herself in rapid Chinese again, fingers of her left hand dancing over the Ancient symbols as they scrolled across the screen. [Chinese: I don't drink while I'm working.]

"Anyone know what she's saying?" Rodney looked around the room, "Last time she got distracted like this we-"

"_You_ blew up a solar system," John interrupted, "and my jumper."

"Five-sixths of a solar system," Rodney glared at John, "And I said I was sorry about your stupid jumper."

"I'm afraid my Mandarin isn't that good," Elizabeth shook her head, "She's speaking too quickly for me to follow. I wouldn't worry about it, Rodney. I'm sure Dr. Vaughn will let me know if she finds anything important."

"_Bìng bù chóng yào, zhǐshì yǒuqù_," D shook her head, then went back to mumbling. [Chinese: Not important, just interesting.]

"Not important, apparently," Elizabeth shrugged.

"I'm going to head back to the _Daedalus_," Caldwell set his glass down on Elizabeth's desk, "We're due to leave in twelve hours. Contact me if there's anything you need before then, Dr. Weir."

"Of course, Colonel," Elizabeth nodded as he left.

"Dr. Weir," D kept her fingers moving over to the symbols, "Are you going to need me for anything else today?"

"I think you've already finished everything until the end of the week, D," Elizabeth said dryly, "Why do you ask?"

"Because," D finally looked away from the screen with a soft smile, "the modified hyperdrive specs retrieved from the _Aurora_ are…_měilì_." [Chinese: beautiful]

John and Rodney looked at Elizabeth inquisitively.

"Beautiful," Elizabeth's lips twitched upwards.

"If you don't mind, ma'am," D cleared the large screen, "I'd like to spend some time studying these with someone else who could understand them."

"You still owe me twenty-seven hours in my lab," Rodney snatched the tablet from D's hands, "Don't think I forgot about that. I was going to have you work on the MTI, but I suppose we could go over these for a little while. It doesn't look that complex. This should only take, what, eight, ten hours, maybe? I'll still have plenty of time left over for you to work on the MTI after this is done."

"I was talking about Dr. Zelenka," D shrugged, "but I suppose you can come too. I'm sure Radek and I can find something easy to keep you occupied."

"Just for that," Rodney glared down at D, "I'm not sharing any of my good coffee with you."

"Rodney," D smirked, "Do you really think I don't already know where you hid it?"

"You don't know," Rodney insisted, "There's no way you figured it out. It's only been there for two days."

"Underneath the-" D started.

Rodney slapped a hand over D's mouth, "Stop."

D raised an eyebrow at him and Rodney dropped his hand quickly.

"Just for that," D spoke evenly, "you're refilling the coffee pot the first three times. With your good coffee."

"Yeah, yeah, fine," Rodney grumbled, turning to leave, "Come on, Red. Let's go."

"Ma'am?" D looked over to Elizabeth.

"Go ahead," Elizabeth nodded, "Don't keep Rodney up too late."

"I'll do my best," D smiled and turned to tap Ronon on the wrist, "If I get distracted and don't show up tomorrow, come get me."

"I'll bring your clothes," Ronon nodded.

"Don't forget my shoes this time," D called over her shoulder as she left.

"Does Rodney not realize that D manipulated him into sharing his good coffee?" Teyla asked curiously, "And into counting the hours she would have given freely as her promised time?"

"I don't think it'll hit him until later," Elizabeth smiled wryly.

"With the proper training, she will make an excellent negotiator one day," Teyla smiled serenely as she inclined our head, "We should be leaving as well, Elizabeth."

"Good night, Teyla, Ronon," Elizabeth moved back to lean against her desk as Ronon and Teyla left.

John walked over and leaned next to Elizabeth, stretching out his legs in front of him as he drawled, "How much you want to bet security gets called to the lab in the middle of the night to break up a slap fight?"

Elizabeth laughed, "I think they're more likely to pass out in the lab after the coffee runs out."

"Winner buys breakfast?" John grinned.

"Deal," Elizabeth agreed with a warm smile.

* * *

Special thanks to reader LillyD11 ( u/4783909/ ) for helping me with the French translations!


	22. Stamina

John's door slid open to reveal Ronon, dressed in his normal tunic, pants, and boots, with black clothing slung over one shoulder and small black tennis shoes in his hand.

"Ready?" Ronon questioned.

"Yeah," John turned back to his desk, "Let me just grab my radio."

Ronon waited in the doorway as John slipped the small earpiece over his ear and stepped outside. The door slid shut behind the two of them and they made their way to the nearby transporter.

"Got make a stop first," Ronon tapped the screen.

The transporter flashed them to a different section of the City and Ronon stepped out, John following quietly behind. As they got closer to the labs, music began drifting through the hall. By the time the two of them reached McKay's lab, the music, an orchestral piece highlighted by many difficult piano runs, was blaring loudly. Ronon grinned and shoved the shoes and clothes he carried into John's hands. He stalked across the lab, making his way silently to where D was standing in front of a whiteboard, swaying back and forth in time to the music. Ronon lifted his hand to grasp her shoulder, but D grabbed his hand and twisted before he made contact. She used her grip to force him to his knees on the ground, hand twisted at an odd angle away from his body. D used the slim remote in her hand to cut-off the music as she held Ronon in place with the light pressure on his hand.

"What have I told you?" D asked evenly.

"I can't sneak up on you," Ronon gritted out the words as D twisted harder.

"Why do you keep trying?" D wondered.

"Because all it takes is one time," Ronon grinned, "to prove you wrong."

"All it takes is a little more pressure to break all the delicate little bones in your hand," D sighed as she let him go, "Then you won't be able to use it for two months. You won't be able to sneak up on me in the City, Ronon."

"You coming?" Ronon asked as he stood.

D frowned down at her watch, "It's morning already?"

"Yeah," Ronon nodded as John came over to join them, "You sleep?"

"No," D shook her head, "You remember my shoes?"

"Right here," John held up the shoes in his hand, "What happened to Rodney?"

D snorted and motioned for the men to follow her, "I put decaf in the pot."

As they stepped around several different whiteboards, Rodney's desk came into view. Rodney was slumped over in his chair, head pillowed on his folded-up jacket laying on top of the keyboard as he snored softly, mouth opened slightly and hair sticking up in odd directions.

"He didn't make it past 0300," D explained with a small smile, "Passed out on his keyboard mid-rant. It was extremely difficult to get his jacket off to put underneath his head. Took me almost five minutes to do it without waking him."

"You could've woken him up," John drawled, "Sent him to his room to sleep in his own bed."

"If I'd woken him up, he would've insisted on helping," D said easily, "At least this way he got a couple hours sleep. Also, I wouldn't have been able to do this."

D crept closer, moving silently around behind Rodney before she leaned over and drew a finger down the edge of his ear. Rodney's hand slapped the side of his face and he jolted awake violently, red creases in the side of his face that had been pressed against his jacket.

"I'm awake," Rodney insisted as he blinked rapidly, "I only closed my eyes for a second. Sheppard? Ronon? What are you guys doing here?"

"It's 0530, Rodney," D's raspy voice from behind him startled Rodney into jumping off his chair, "You've been asleep for two and a half hours."

"_Damn it_, Red," Rodney put a hand over his heart as John and Ronon laughed, "Are you _trying _to give me a heart attack?"

D grinned as she moved around him to take her clothes from John, "Just having a little fun. Give me two minutes to change, Ronon, then we'll go."

"Wait a minute, you can't leave yet," Rodney called after her as she moved behind two large cabinets at the back of the lab, "Where are you going? We're not done with this yet."

"Running," D answered, "And if you'd actually look at the boards, you'd notice that I finished it."

"What?" Rodney scrambled over to the whiteboards, scanning the equations written there, "What's with the-"

"It only works if it's inverted," D interjected, "Look at the other-"

"Yes, I see it," Rodney moved to the next board, "I told you I was right about the-"

"Yeah, yeah," D agreed, "Have you gotten to the-"

"Wow," Rodney stepped closer to the last board, "This is…hmmm…are you sure this is right?"

"Checked it twice," D started walking back to the desk. Her gray uniform and blue shirt were folded neatly in her arms and she carried her black boots and watch. She had changed into a long-sleeved shirt, thumbs stuck through holes in the sleeves and collar zipped up to her throat, and fitted black pants with no pockets, both made of stretchy black lycra. She set her uniform, including her boots, down on Rodney's desk, slipped the watch back around her right wrist, and after grabbing her shoes from John, went around the whiteboards to sit down on the floor.

"I think we can get an eight percent increase at least," D slipped one foot into her tennis shoe and laced it up tight, "Pretty cool, right?"

"It's more like twelve percent once you take into account the-" Rodney finally looked away from the boards to scowl down at D, "'Pretty cool'? All the words in all the languages you speak and the best you can come up with is 'pretty cool'?"

D finished lacing up the second shoe, "_Arketá droseró_."

"What does that mean?" Rodney held out a hand to pull D to her feet.

"It's Greek," D smirked, "for pretty cool."

"Go away," Rodney commanded, "I can't deal with you before I've had caffeine. All of you, out of my lab."

"I'll be back for my clothes later, Rodney," D pulled several pins from her hair and dropped them into her boots. She pulled the elastic band from her hair and drew her long hair into a high ponytail as she followed John and Ronon out of the lab, "You keep pace with the Colonel or leave him behind?"

"Depends," Ronon shrugged.

"On?" D looked between them.

Ronon grinned, "Whether he's whining or not."

"I don't whine," John protested.

"How many laps?" D ignored John.

"Only two with him," Ronon replied, "Doesn't have much stamina yet."

"My stamina is just fine," John scowled at the two of them as they stepped into the transporter. He stabbed a finger onto the screen and white light flashed around them.

"Only two?" D sighed heavily as the doors slid open, "I suppose I can go swimming afterwards."

"We could go around again," Ronon offered, "when he's done."

"Hey," John insisted, "I can go just as long as either of you."

Ronon and D exchanged a quick look before turning back to John with identical smirks, "Prove it."

_*AM*AM*AM*AM*AM*AM*AM*_

John winced as he slid into the seat next to Elizabeth, dropping his head onto the table with a groan.

"What happened to you?" Elizabeth set her PDA down in front of her and put a warm hand on the back of his neck.

"Had to defend my stamina," John mumbled.

"Defend your _stamina_?" Elizabeth repeated, "What does that mean?"

"It means Vaughn is trying to kill me," John sighed as Elizabeth rubbed her hand up and down his back, "Apparently, Ronon's been going easy on me this whole time and I didn't know it."

Elizabeth looked up as Rodney all but collapsed in the chair on her other side, his hair sticking up in wild tufts and uniform rumpled as he clutched a coffee cup in one hand and a tablet in the other.

"And what happened to you?" Elizabeth wondered.

"Dr. Vaughn's trying to kill me," Rodney whined as he set the tablet down and stared at it blankly.

"You too?" John lifted his head momentarily.

"She hid all the good coffee that I had stashed in my lab," Rodney pouted, "I could only find decaf. What kind of person keeps a person up until three in the morning, wakes them up a mere two and a half hours later, then deprives them of hot caffeinated beverages? An evil, _evil_ person, that's what kind."

"Who is evil?" Teyla sat in the chair next to John.

"Dr. Vaughn," Rodney glowered.

"She tried to kill me," John added, sitting up in his chair with another wince, "Evil."

"Tried to kill _both_ of us," Rodney took a long sip of his coffee, frowning down at the mug with a sigh, "It's just not the same."

"What's not the same, Rodney?" Carson sat down next to him.

"Decaf," Rodney gazed into the empty coffee cup forlornly.

"You've started drinking decaf?" Carson smiled, "Good for you, Rodney. I'm glad you're taking our last talk about your blood pressure seriously."

Rodney lifted his head to glare at Carson, "Believe me, the decaf was _not_ by my choice."

"Then why are you drinking it?" Carson wondered.

"Because Red is evil," Rodney huffed.

"Definitely evil," John nodded, "Tried to kill us."

"I haven't tried to kill anyone for at least a week," D walked up to the table, several trays full of food and a large carafe with steam rising from it balanced in her arms. Ronon followed behind her slowly, very carefully carrying three trays of his own.

"Let me help you with those, D," Teyla rose from the table, carefully transferring the trays from D's arms to the table.

"Thank you, Teyla," D set the carafe down. Ronon sat in the last chair, pushing one tray in front of Teyla and the other in front of Carson, keeping the one piled high with sausage and bacon for himself.

"Is that real coffee?" Rodney eyeballed the carafe warily, "Or more decaf masquerading as coffee?"

"Real coffee, Rodney," D agreed. She turned away as Rodney made grabby hands at the container, "Eat something first. You skipped dinner. I'll be right back."

John pushed the carafe close enough that Rodney could reach, pouring himself a cup as everyone began eating quietly.

"How did it go last night, Rodney?" Elizabeth asked curiously, "With the hyperdrive specs."

"Really well," Rodney sighed happily as he inhaled the steam coming off his hot coffee, "I'm pretty sure we found a way to increase the efficiency of the 304s hyperdrives by twelve percent."

"Really?" Elizabeth marveled, "Twelve percent? That's fantastic."

"It'll take a little time to adapt the Ancient-based systems to the Earth-Asgard ones they're using now," Rodney shoved a bite of eggs into his mouth, "but we should be able to do it. I've already sent Zelenka a copy of the report and assigned a team to work on it. I sent a copy to your inbox and put it in the file for the next transmission to Earth too. I did most of the work last night figuring out the equations they were using in the simulation, so it should be pretty simple for the engineers at this point. A week, at the most."

"You did not do most of the work, Rodney," D set down five glasses in the middle of the table, pouring orange juice into each of them from the large pitcher she held, "It was a combined effort. And I was the one who actually finished the last equation while you were passed out at your desk."

"Because _some evil person_," Rodney glared up at her, "decided to put decaf in the coffee pot. Why do we even have decaf in the City? Who requisitions decaf? Does _anyone_ in Atlantis actually drink decaf?"

"How else was I supposed to get you to shut up long enough for me to concentrate?" D smirked at him, "Do you want something else to drink? They have milk and some other fruit juices that aren't citrus."

"No, I have real coffee now," Rodney gestured to his coffee cup using his fork, "I don't need anything else."

D looked around the table, "Anyone else want coffee or is McKay drinking the whole thing himself?"

"I wouldn't mind a cup," Carson spoke up, "Thank you, dear."

"I'll take one as well, D," Elizabeth smiled, "Thanks."

"But I need the caffeine," Rodney pulled the carafe closer to him protectively, "Carson, aren't you always saying coffee is bad for your blood pressure? Why are you drinking coffee now?"

"I had a late night as well, Rodney," Carson informed him, "And I said drinking the sheer amount of coffee you do is bad for your health."

"I'll bring another one," D rolled her eyes as she left, "So Rodney will stop pouting."

Ronon reached for one of the glasses of orange juice, downing half of it in one large gulp and refilling it from the pitcher before he went back to his food.

"So do you run like that every morning, big guy?" John pulled his own juice in front of him.

"Three laps with her," Ronon answered with a mouth full of food, "Two with you."

"You ran with Ronon and D this morning?" Teyla looked over to John, "No wonder you are hurting."

"Hey," John objected, "I did just fine."

"They challenged his stamina apparently," Elizabeth smiled wryly.

"There's nothing wrong with my stamina," John insisted with a scowl.

"I have seen the two of them running together," Teyla patted his arm in comfort, "I doubt many could keep up with them."

"The Colonel did much better than I thought he would," D set two coffee mugs and a second carafe of coffee on the table, "but I'm sure he's feeling the strain from overexertion now. Did you need anything else before I go, Dr. Weir?"

"You're not going to eat with us?" Elizabeth questioned.

"No," D shook her head, "I just wanted to make sure everyone ate properly this morning."

"Doesn't that include yourself?" Carson looked up at her.

"I'm going to go change so I can get in a quick swim before I have to get to work," D said easily, "I'll grab something when I'm done."

"Didn't you already do three laps around the City?" John asked warily.

"Yes," D agreed easily, "But normally I do three laps with Ronon, then another three afterwards."

"Six laps around the catwalks?" Rodney looked up at her oddly, "That's almost twenty four kilometers."

"Twenty four point one," D shrugged as she accepted the piece of bacon Ronon offered.

"You run twenty four point one kilometers every morning?" Rodney gaped at her, "Even after being awake all night?"

"Not every morning," D shook her head, "Sometimes I swim laps for an hour instead. Or a combination of the two like today."

"Wait," John paused with his glass halfway to his mouth, looking between Elizabeth and D, "Since when do we have a pool?"

"We don't," Elizabeth explained, "but D convinced me to have the space between the North and West piers sectioned off for swimming."

"Are you not concerned about the creatures living in the ocean?" Teyla wondered.

"I requisitioned waterproof netting a couple months ago," D answered easily, "The marine biologists assured Dr. Weir that anything small enough to get through the holes was harmless. Captain Bosco's entire team is dive certified and they were kind enough to install the netting. There was a memo sent out to all personnel when it was finished. Why do you think I smelled like sea-salt when a certain person got the irrepressible urge to sniff me?"

John choked on the sip of orange juice he had just taken. Elizabeth bit back a laugh as she reached over to thump him on the back.

"Must be extra pulp in the orange juice this morning," D smirked and pulled a piece of paper out of the shirt pocket over her stomach, "Here, Teyla."

"What is this?" Teyla accepted the paper.

"It's the location where I hid McKay's coffee," D explained, "If he's a good boy and eats all his breakfast, you can give it to him. If he's naughty and doesn't finish his food, you can trade it to Nurse Soto for those chocolates you like."

"Wait a minute," Rodney protested loudly, "That's my coffee, you can't just-"

"The ones with the caramel filling?" Teyla pursed her lips as she looked at Rodney's tray thoughtfully.

"The very same," D nodded as she leaned down to fake-whisper in Carson's ear, "Make sure Rodney doesn't choke when he starts shoveling food into his mouth. I'd hate to have to break in another physicist."


	23. Conversations

"You're back early," Elizabeth greeted Lorne as his team stepped through the gate.

"Uh, Jenev is kind of a closed society," Lorne said dryly, "Very polite and very courteous, but completely uninterested in having anything to do with us."

"Well, better that than hostile, I suppose," Elizabeth stopped to face Lorne, "Colonel Sheppard's team, three hours overdue."

"Wouldn't be the first time," Lorne smiled, "Any radio contact?"

"None since they left," D shook her head.

"Well," Lorne replied easily, "You know those guys, ma'am."

Elizabeth raised an eyebrow, "What do I know about those guys?"

"Just that they tend to get all caught up in whatever it is they're doing, and sometimes they don't check in. They forget how much you worry," Lorne continued quickly at Elizabeth's flat look, "That _we_ worry…collectively, I mean."

"Yes, we do," Elizabeth agreed evenly.

"Yeah, we do," Lorne grimaced slightly as he looked over Elizabeth's shoulder to his team, "Okay, you guys. Looks like we're heading back out."

"Thank you, Major," Elizabeth smiled as she headed up the steps to the control room.

"You're welcome," Lorne turned back towards the gate.

"Major?" D moved over to stand close, keeping her voice quiet, "A word?"

"Sure," Lorne agreed, "What's up, Dr. Vaughn?"

"I've spoken to Ms. Emmagan about AR-1's tendency to be lax with their check-ins," D informed him, "Of the four of them, she is the most responsible. She assured me that she would remind certain members of the team of the fact that Dr. Weir worries about them. We should have heard something by now. Three hours is a long time for them to be overdue, even for them."

"You think they Sheppard's team might actually in trouble?" Lorne asked carefully.

"I am…_concerned_," D responded calmly, "about the authenticity of the information that sent them on the mission in the first place. Teyla places a great deal of trust in her off-world contacts. The tip about the ZPM was unverified. I find it curious that this particular contact insisted that Colonel Sheppard's team be the ones to follow up."

"Well, it makes sense," Lorne offered, "If it was one of Teyla's contacts, they'd want to talk to her."

"Atlantis has received tips from her contacts before," D countered, "They normally only request that an Athosian be present. Usually Sgt. Stackhouse's team follows up, with Halling acting as their guide. This contact was quite adamant that Teyla herself, along with the rest of AR-1, be in attendance. And now the team is three hours late to check in. I'm finding the coincidence a little difficult to believe. I'd advise your team to proceed with caution."

"All right," Lorne nodded, "We'll be careful."

"Also," D flicked her glance to the control room, "I'd like to keep this conversation between the two of us. I don't want Dr. Weir to worry any more than she already is."

"Of course," Lorne agreed.

"If you do find Sheppard's team, Major," D turned to leave, "Please tell them how much we worry about them…_collectively_."

"I'll be sure to remind them, Doctor," Lorne smiled as the gate sprung to life.

_*AM*AM*AM*AM*AM*AM*AM*_

"If they were okay," Elizabeth paced behind Lorne, "they would have radioed in by now."

"I understand that, ma'am," Lorne replied carefully.

Elizabeth moved around to sit at her desk, looking over D with a determined gaze, "I want everyone who is cleared for off-world activity to help with the search."

"I'll start coordinating the search teams as soon as we're done here, ma'am," D inclined her head.

"The _Daedalus_ is on its way from Earth, then they'll be able to help," Elizabeth continued, "but until they get here, it's up to us."

"And I know that," Lorne nodded, "but I need you to understand that it is gonna take a very long time to search all the planets on our list. It…it could take months."

"Will take months," D corrected, "Assuming they were only taken through one gate and not multiples, even utilizing all Atlantis personnel cleared for off-world-"

"We cannot afford months," Elizabeth interrupted.

"We know that, ma'am," Lorne responded softly.

"Good," Elizabeth ducked her head to look at her desk.

"I'll be out in a minute, Major," D spoke quietly as Lorne stood.

The glass door slid shut behind him and D lifted a hand cautiously to place it on Elizabeth's shoulder, "I don't know how to reassure you, Elizabeth. I can give you details and statistics. I can give you thousands of possible scenarios and tell you which ones are the most and least likely. I can coordinate and schedule dozens of search teams all in my mind. I can tell you how to best utilize every single member of this expedition to their full potential. I can systemically hunt down and destroy all your enemies. I can't, however, tell you for sure that we will find Sheppard and his team. I won't lie and tell you I believe they are safe. "

"I know, D," Elizabeth brought her hand up to rest on top of D's, "But if you can do all that other stuff, I can have faith that we'll find them."

"May I ask you a personal question, Dr. Weir?" D dropped her hand, turning to lean against D's desk and blocking the view of Elizabeth form the control room.

"Of course," Elizabeth nodded.

D tilted her head to the side, "Why do you hide your personal relationship with Colonel Sheppard?"

"Personal relationship?" Elizabeth asked evenly.

"Elizabeth," D leveled a flat stare at the other woman, "I am an extremely observant person. The two of you are discrete enough that no one else has noticed, but it's clear from the way the two of you act around each other and the way both of you react when the either is in trouble, that you are…_close_ to one another. I'd guess you've been dating, or whatever term you prefer to use, since you came back to the City after reconnecting with Earth. I'm just curious why you both chose to keep it a secret. There are no rules or regulations that say the two of you can't be together. And I'm positive that your relationship would be welcomed, even encouraged, if it became public knowledge."

"Welcomed and encouraged _here_," Elizabeth sighed, "but if the IOA found out that the expedition leader and the military commander were…_seeing_ each other, they could use the information to have one or both of us removed."

"If you are doing nothing wrong," D scowled slightly, "nothing against regulations, then how could they use that information to remove you?"

"Let me put it this way," Elizabeth leaned back to look up at D, "If you were researching a target, a female civilian in charge of an international expedition including both military and civilian personnel, looking for the best way to manipulate the target into doing what you wanted…"

"Two things," D replied as Elizabeth trailed off, "First, if I were researching a target such as yourself, which I have done, by the way, I would know that the best way to manipulate you is not through your personal relationships. That would have the exact opposite effect intended. I would normally consider you a pacifist, but when anyone you care about is threatened, you would fight to your dying breath to protect them, in any way you could. Your emotions do not make you weak, they make you stronger."

"And second?" Elizabeth raised an eyebrow.

"Second," D crossed her arms across her chest, "If you for one second believe that anyone in this City would let the IOA remove you or Colonel Sheppard without a fight, you don't know them nearly as well as you think you do. Atlantis herself would protest if they even tried. These people have an enormous amount of respect for you and for the Colonel. If you want to keep your relationship a secret because you're both private people that's one thing, but don't let a bunch of bureaucrats in a different galaxy dictate your actions."

"Hmmm," Elizabeth considered D carefully, "When did you get so wise?"

"I don't really consider it wisdom," D shrugged, "so much as unwillingness to let a bunch of people whose collective purpose seems to be annoying the shit out of anyone working for the SGC with their ridiculous meddling dictate terms about someone's personal life."

"Why don't you tell me how you really feel about the IOA, D," Elizabeth deadpanned.

"I don't think we have time for that, ma'am," D straightened from Elizabeth's desk, "I have search teams to coordinate."

"Of course," Elizabeth nodded, "Dr. Vaughn? I'd appreciate it if you didn't mention anything about…my personal relationship with Colonel Sheppard. I'm still not ready for anyone else to know."

"Dr. Weir," D raised an eyebrow, "Why do you think I was sitting between you and the control room? I know at least two of them read lips. Until you choose to tell people, it's none of their business."

"You asked about it," Elizabeth pointed out.

"You didn't have to answer," D replied easily, "My entire life is based on secrets, Elizabeth. What would make you think I would give yours away?"

"You wouldn't," Elizabeth smiled.

"I wouldn't," D agreed as she moved towards the door, "I'll keep you updated on the teams' progress in searching for AR-1, ma'am."

"Thank you, Doctor," Elizabeth nodded once as the door slid open in front of D, "And don't think I didn't notice the part about hunting down and destroying my enemies."

"Systematically, ma'am," D called over her shoulder, "Let me know when your list is done and I'll get to work on it."

_*AM*AM*AM*AM*AM*AM*AM*_

"Unscheduled activation!" Chuck announced as the Stargate sprung to life.

Elizabeth came out of her office quickly and Chuck looked up at her with a hesitant smile, "It's Dr. McKay's IDC."

"Lower the shield," Elizabeth ordered as she rushed past.

"Call a medical team, Sgt. Campbell," D added as she followed Elizabeth, "and additional security personnel to the gate room as well."

"Yes, ma'am," Chuck nodded.

"I know what I need to do!" Rodney shouted as he emerged from the puddle. His face was flushed an unhealthy red and his skin was slick with sweat, soaking into his shirt. The gate cut off as Elizabeth reached him and she tried to reach out to take his arm, but he started walking in jerky circles around her.

"Rodney, what's happened?" Elizabeth questioned.

"There's no time, no time! The planet – not Ford's, the one the, uh, ship's headed towards, we need to get there and we don't have much time," Rodney's rambling was even faster than normal, punctuated by wild hand gestures, "I was barely able to escape myself, but I managed to take out the guards," Rodney stopped briefly to point at Elizabeth and grin widely, "Oh, you should have seen me! I was amazing! I wish we'd got it on camera because – that's not the point."

"Rodney, slow down," Elizabeth commanded, "Are you all right?"

Rodney's face reddened even further as it contorted into a grimace, "Yes, yes. I mean, um…" Rodney threw up his hands and let out a hysterical giggle, "I dunno," he started pacing around Elizabeth again, "I mean, I did take out the guards and they were huge and dumb and stupid and-"

"Rodney," D reached over to grab both Rodney's hands, stilling him in place, "Look at me. Right here in my eyes. Can you do that for me?"

"I can do that," Rodney nodded furiously as D lifted one of his hands to place on the left side of her chest, spreading her smaller hand on top of his to hold him there, "I mean maybe, probably not right now, but I can-"

"Feel my heart beat. Feel my chest rise and fall with each breath," D's voice was low and steady, "I need you to try to match yours to mine. Use that brilliant brain of yours to slow your heartbeat just like mine. Can you do that for me, Rodney? Can you match my heartbeat?"

"Match your heartbeat," Rodney inhaled and exhaled slightly slower than before and D gave him a soft smile, "Match the heartbeat. Like a game. Find the ones that match."

"A game you're going to win, because you're so smart," D agreed quietly, "Can you tell me what drugs you're on right now, Rodney?"

"I had to take a lot of the enzyme, the enzyme from the Wraith. Ford and his guys refined it and they're holding the Wraith in the caves so they have a constant supply," Rodney started hyperventilating again, "and I had to take out the guards and they were big and dumb and stupid."

"Keep matching my heartbeat, Rodney," D spoke gently, "Concentrate on that, okay?"

"Okay, matching," Rodney agreed, focusing once more on his hand on her chest, "Right. Concentrate. Matching."

"You're doing a wonderful job, Rodney," D continued in the soothing tone, "I'm so proud of you for taking out Ford's guards. You were so brave to do that. Can you tell me why you took out those big, dumb guards?"

"I had to get the control crystals from Ford's room so I could fix the DHD," the words tumbled from Rodney's mouth, "I had to get back here so I could stop the ship from getting to the planet."

"Such a smart man," D held Rodney firmly in place as the medical team came running into the room, one hand over her heart, the other over his wrist at his side, "Such a brave man, Rodney. Can you tell me where Sheppard, Teyla, and Ronon are now?"

"They're on the ship with Ford and his men," Rodney babbled, "They're all on the enzyme. Except Sheppard, he hasn't taken any of the enzyme but he still couldn't get Ford to give up his ridiculous plan. That's why I had to get back here, so we could stop the ship from culling the planet and rescue the team. They should've been back by now but the guards didn't believe me when I said something was wrong so I-"

"Keep matching my heartbeat, Rodney," D interrupted softly, "You don't have to tell us anymore, okay? You did a wonderful job. You took out the big, dumb guards all by yourself and you warned us about the ship. We'll take care of it from here. All you need to do now is go with Carson. He's going to take you to the infirmary now."

D released Rodney's left hand at his side as she spoke, motioning for Carson to come closer. She moved Rodney's hand from her chest to Carson's, pulling Carson's hand up to rest over Rodney's, hers on top of both of them.

"You're going to match Carson's heartbeat now, okay, Rodney?" D started walking them both towards the gurney, guiding Rodney to a sitting position before she finally dropped her hand, "Concentrate on matching Carson's heartbeat, nothing else."

"Right, concentrate," Rodney's gaze shifted from D to Carson, "Matching the heartbeat. I can do this. I can match it. This is easy. I'm smart enough to do this. My brain can do anything."

"He said took a massive dose of Wraith enzyme," D whispered to Carson.

"Oh, good lord," Carson swore quietly as Rodney continued rambling.

"His blood pressure and pulse are ridiculously high, even for him," D informed him, "Try to stay as calm as you can so your heartbeat stays down and if you need to leave, get Marie to take your place and tell her the same thing. Rodney's stubborn brain should be able to lower his pulse if he concentrates on it enough. If we're extremely lucky, he won't have a stroke before you get his blood pressure down."

"Got it," Carson turned to Rodney, "Come on, lad. We're going to take a quick trip to the infirmary and get you checked out, all right? You just keep concentrating on matching my heartbeat."

As the medical team wheeled Rodney away, Elizabeth moved over by D, "Did you understand what he was talking about?"

"Not entirely," D admitted as she turned to Elizabeth, "He mentioned Ford twice. I'm assuming he means Lt. Aiden Ford. It seems the Lieutenant has a number of men drugged with the Wraith enzyme, whether by choice or not. It sounds like AR-1 was lured to the planet by Ford and taken somewhere else, then given the enzyme and forced to participate in some sort of 'ridiculous plan'. I'm not sure but I think the plan has something to do with a Wraith ship. He mentioned something about stopping the ship from culling."

"So they're all hopped on Wraith enzyme," Elizabeth questioned evenly, "somewhere on a hive ship about to cull a planet?"

"I'm not sure, ma'am," D replied carefully, "But it might be worth using the long-range sensors to look for any Wraith ships nearing planets."

"Do it. Hopefully, this information will be what we need to find them," Elizabeth ordered, "Let me know what you find."


	24. Recovery

"Colonel Caldwell," Carson met Elizabeth, D, and Caldwell at the infirmary door, "I didn't think you were due back here for days."

"Dr. Weir requested that we join the search ASAP," Caldwell explained, "so Hermiod implemented some of Dr. McKay's changes to the hyperdrive a bit early and we pushed the engines."

Elizabeth looked past Carson to see Rodney restrained on one of the beds in the infirmary. Even with the oxygen mask covering his mouth, she could see him breathing unsteadily as he shuddered gently, his face still flushed an unhealthy red.

"How is he?" Elizabeth asked quietly.

"I've sedated him; administered a beta blocker to bring his blood pressure down to a more manageable level," Carson glanced back to Rodney, "It's a wonder he didn't suffer a stroke."

"How much of the enzyme did he take?" Elizabeth questioned.

"A very big dose, I'm afraid," Carson replied, "I found a significant amount of it in his system, nearly as much as Lt. Ford."

"All right," Elizabeth spoke calmly, "Can you wean him off it?"

"I wish I could. Unfortunately, Lt. Ford took the last supply of our enzyme when he left Atlantis," Carson answered regretfully, "so an incremental withdrawal is out of the question."

"Unless we harvest more enzyme," Caldwell suggested evenly.

Elizabeth turned to raise eyebrow at Caldwell.

"Not an option," Carson shook his head before Elizabeth could respond, "By the time you go out and collect it, the enzyme will have broken down in his system already. No, I'm afraid for Rodney the only choice is-"

"Cold turkey," Caldwell concluded.

"Aye, to put it bluntly," Carson agreed, "I can administer some drugs to help ease the process: anti-nausea medication, pain reliever, benzodiazepine for anxiety, as well as a multi-vitamin injection to bolster the immune system."

"Good," Elizabeth nodded.

"But there's no dodging the fact it's gonna be difficult," Carson continued evenly, "possibly even deadly."

"I might be able to help him, ma'am," D offered quietly.

"Dr. Vaughn," Elizabeth cautioned her after a quick glance at Caldwell, "I'm not going to authorize-"

"I'm not talking about retrieving the enzyme, ma'am," D interrupted, looking past Carson to where Rodney was still tossing fitfully in the bed, then back to Elizabeth, "_Ego potest auxilium aliterque_." [Latin: I can help in a different way.]

"Explain, please," Elizabeth commanded.

"_Yo no te dije todo sobre mí_," D began carefully, "_Hay cosas de mí que no figuran en mi archivo_." [Spanish: I haven't told you everything about me.] [Spanish: There are things about me not in my file.]

"_Qué tipo de cosas_?" Elizabeth narrowed her eyes. [Spanish: What kind of things?]

"_Cosas que nunca han contado a nadie_," D held Elizabeth's strong gaze, "_No estoy seguro de que va a trabajar, pero me gustaría probar_." [Spanish: Things I haven't told anyone.] [Spanish: I'm not sure it will work, but I'd like to try.]

"_Es peligroso_?" Elizabeth questioned. [Spanish: Is it dangerous?]

"_No tengo ni idea_," D shrugged, "_Nunca he tratado de ayudar a un adicto a las drogas por una abstinencia antes_." [Spanish: I have no idea.] [Spanish: I've never tried to help a drug addict through withdrawal before.]

"All right," Elizabeth agreed cautiously, "But if turns out to be dangerous…"

"I'll stop, ma'am," D inclined her head, then turned to look up at Caldwell, "Colonel, we've asked Dr. Zelenka to come up with a list of hive ships that are near any of the gate addresses recovered from the planet's DHD."

"I'd like you to start checking the planets on his list," Elizabeth ordered, "We've been sending teams through the gate since Sheppard's team has been missing, but Dr. McKay coming back is the first break we've had in our rescue efforts. We could use your help, Colonel."

"Of course," Caldwell agreed smoothly, "I'll head back to the _Daedalus_ now."

"If you need anything, ma'am," D followed Carson into the infirmary.

"I'll call," Elizabeth nodded as she left.

"What are you planning on doing, lass?" Carson asked quietly as they neared Rodney.

D pulled a chair silently over to Rodney's bedside, pulling her uniform jacket off to lay it over the back of the chair and pulling her long sleeves up to her elbows before she sat down gracefully in the chair.

"Touch is a very powerful tool, Carson. A tool that I learned to wield expertly a very long time ago," D's voice was low and melodic as she silently removed the restraint from Rodney's right arm, "A simple caress on the cheek can make someone feel loved. A hand brushed down an arm can be either intimate or comforting, depending on how you do it. A chaste kiss on the forehead can demonstrate familial affection," D laid her right hand gently over Rodney's forearm, "A light slap on the hand is a mild reprimand when someone gets too close to something they shouldn't. A backhanded hit across the face has been used for centuries to show the person they are beneath someone. A hard kick to the groin is enough to send most people to their knees, man or woman," D closed her eyes as she pressed the fingers of her left hand lightly over the pulse in Rodney's wrist, "A single touch can mean so many different things. Touching someone's neck in any fashion is intimate, but that intimacy can be good, like pulling someone close to you by the back of the neck for a kiss, or bad, like using the grip on the back of their neck to force the person to move. A light grip on a person's wrist can feel intimate and reassuring, but tighten the grip too much and it becomes threatening, restraining. A touch can be pleasure and pain all at once," the rapid beeping of the heart monitor began to gradually slow and Rodney's breathing started evening out, "Most living creatures, human or otherwise, need touch – crave it. And that's just touches between normal people. If one normal human can have that much influence over another human with a touch, imagine what an angel could do with that same touch."

"His heartbeat has slowed," Carson looked between the monitor and Rodney, "and he looks to be breathing easier. What are you doing? Are you _healing _him?"

"No, of course not. I'm merely using touch to convince him that he's experiencing pleasure instead of pain," D answered softly, "Rodney's stubborn mind is doing all the heavy lifting. It won't get the drug out of his system any faster, but it should lessen the strain to his system."

"_How_ in the _world_ are you doing that?" Carson asked incredulously.

"It's difficult to explain," D cracked open an eye to look up at Carson, "and it takes a great deal of concentration, so if you don't mind..."

"Of course," Carson agreed quickly, "I'll instruct the staff to leave the two of you be. Nurse Ko and I will monitor Rodney's condition."

D hummed in agreement as she closed her eyes again, keeping her hands pressed against Rodney's arm.

_*AM*AM*AM*AM*AM*AM*AM*_

"How's it going?" Elizabeth came up behind Carson quietly.

"I think Rodney's through the worst of it," Carson turned to face Elizabeth, a tired smile on his face, "He's asleep now. I don't know how D's doing it, but she's managed to keep him pain-free through the entire ordeal. It's remarkable, really."

Elizabeth returned his smile briefly, "Has he mentioned anything about Sheppard and the others?"

"I'm afraid not. Our conversation was of a different sort," Carson shook his head, "Whatever D's doing is making Rodney giddy. He's proposed to everyone he's seen, including me, at least three times and pouts when we tell him no."

"I'm almost sorry to have missed all that," Elizabeth raised an eyebrow.

"I'm fairly certain he's through the worst of the withdrawal," Carson continued, "The nausea has passed, his pulse has returned to normal, blood pressure in a more reasonable range, considering his borderline hypertension before taking the enzyme."

"We'll have to thank Dr. Vaughn when this is over," Elizabeth shifted her gaze to the red-haired woman still sitting next to Rodney's bedside, her hands gentle on his arm, "McKay could've gone through much worse."

"I don't think she'll accept the thanks," Carson looked over to Elizabeth curiously, "She insists it's Rodney's stubborn mind doing all the hard work."

"Her exact words, I'm sure," Elizabeth smiled wryly, "They're like two sides of the same coin. So similar and yet so different. Both ridiculously stubborn."

"Aye," Carson agreed, "But I don't think we'll be telling either of them that."

"No," Elizabeth shook her head, "I don't think we will. You should get some rest Carson. You look exhausted."

"I'd like to stay a wee bit longer, just to make sure Rodney's truly out of the woods," Carson admitted.

Elizabeth smiled and nodded before she walked forward to brush a hand over D's shoulder. D blinked her eyes open slowly, smiling softly when she focused on Elizabeth.

"You need to sleep," Elizabeth ordered gently, "I know you haven't slept much since Sheppard's team went missing."

"I'm fine, Elizabeth," D spoke slowly, fatigue clear in her tone.

"Exhausting yourself won't do anyone any good," Elizabeth pointed out, "Even _you_ need to sleep sometimes."

"I know my limits," D insisted as her eyes fluttered closed.

"I know you do, D," Elizabeth leaned down to press a soft kiss to D's forehead, "but you don't need to push yourself so hard, okay?"

"Yes, _mater_," D sighed heavily. [Latin: mother]

"If I was really your mother," Elizabeth laughed softly as she turned to leave, "I would've grounded you a long time ago for sassing me all the time."

A wide smile came across D's face as Elizabeth left.

_*AM*AM*AM*AM*AM*AM*AM*_

Elizabeth looked up from her work as the door to her office opened.

"Well, look at you," Elizabeth smiled as she stood.

"Ah, yes," Rodney replied, "Bright-eyed and bushy-tailed, as the idiom goes."

"You gave us quite a scare," Elizabeth came around the desk to stand by Rodney.

"It was very strange," Rodney confessed, "The whole time I was under the influence of the enzyme, it felt like I was, uh, I was perfectly lucid – eloquent, even. That it was _you_ who wasn't making any sense or listening to reason. It was very peculiar. I think I kind of understand how Ford must have been feeling this whole time."

"Now that you're feeling more yourself and not asking half the staff to marry you," D set down her tablet on Elizabeth's desk, "Can you tell us what happened to your team? And where they are? Even with the information we got from you yesterday morning, we've been unable to locate them."

"I don't know exactly, but I think I can figure it out," Rodney started moving towards the control room, Elizabeth at his side and D following behind the two of them, "I told you Ford's alive."

"You mentioned that, yes," Elizabeth agreed, "But I wasn't sure whether to believe you."

"The man is nothing if not resilient. He's been busy, too. He's gathered himself together a little gang, doped them all up on the enzyme," Rodney sat in one of the chairs in the control room, "They're the ones that caught us, drugged us, and coerced Sheppard, Teyla and Ronon to join them on a mission to destroy a hive ship."

"To _destroy_ a hive ship?" Elizabeth exchanged a glance with D.

"I took that into account, ma'am," D responded easily, "The sensors have been scanning for any recent debris that could be a hive ship as well as actual hive ships."

"If you've already been tracking hive ships, that should make this easier," Rodney started typing on the laptop in front of him, "Ford's gang managed to steal themselves a Dart. Like I said, he's been busy. Look, when they didn't return from the mission, I realized something had obviously gone wrong. Now, I have the coordinates to the planet that the hive ship was headed towards to cull."

"So if the team is still alive," Elizabeth said, "maybe captured on the ship, there's a chance we can rescue them."

"Yeah," Rodney agreed, "At the very least we can warn the planet of the impending culling."

D walked around the console to look over Rodney's shoulder, "Are those the coordinates of the planet, Doctor?"

"Yeah," Rodney nodded, "The planet has a space gate, but if we go by puddle jumper, we wouldn't be able to do much more than just warn people of the impending culling. It'll be close, but if we use the _Daedalus_ we might be able to get a radio lock on Sheppard and the team inside the hive ship. If they're still alive, we can beam them out."

"Hermiod was able to implement several of the hyperdrive modifications you came up with," D looked down at her watch, "and the _Daedalus_ is due back in ten minutes. But even with the modifications..."

"We'll still be cutting it close," Rodney stood.

"The _Daedalus_ would arrive at the planet approximately ten minutes after the hive ship," D looked up at Elizabeth, "I'd like to recommend we send three of the seven teams we have available in cloaked jumpers to the planet via the gate, ma'am. They can warn the planet's population about the impending culling, start evacuating the indigenous people to the City before the ships get there."

"Let's send Major Lorne's team with Dr. McKay on the _Daedalus_," Elizabeth decided, "Send four teams and one of the Marine units to the planet. Will they have enough pilots for six jumpers?"

"Yes, ma'am," D nodded, "The Marine unit on stand-by has two of their own pilots."

"Good, do it," Elizabeth ordered, "I'd like to save as much of the planet's population as we can."

"I'll start coordinating immediately, ma'am," D inclined her head, then looked over to Rodney again, "Please be ready to leave in ten minutes, Dr. McKay."

"I'm going to go find Zelenka," Rodney headed for the stairs, "Maybe between the two of us we can come up with a way to coax more power out of the hyperdrives without blowing us all up."

"I feel I should point out," D spoke quietly, "even if the _Daedalus_ manages to make it to the planet in time, the statistical likelihood of rescuing AR-1 from a hive ship is incredibly slim."

"I'll take a slim chance over no chance at all," Elizabeth insisted.

"You're an eternal optimist, Elizabeth," D sighed, "I'll assemble the necessary personnel and make arrangements for large groups of refugees with the medical staff."

"I'll contact Colonel Caldwell," Elizabeth headed towards her office, "Think positive thoughts, Dr. Vaughn."


	25. Protocols

"Copy that, Atlantis out," Chuck stood, walking towards Elizabeth's office, "Dr. Weir?"

Elizabeth hurried out of her office, followed by D at a slower pace.

"We received word from _Daedalus_," Chuck reported, "They said they should be back to Atlantis by nineteen hundred hours with the last of the refugees."

"They called the search off?" Elizabeth asked carefully.

"They said there was nothing to search for," Chuck replied quietly.

"Thank you, Sgt. Campbell," D moved forward to Elizabeth's side as Chuck left, laying a gentle hand on her wrist, "Did you want some time, Elizabeth? I can clear your schedule."

"I'm fine, D," Elizabeth shook her head, "Or I will be-"

The alarms for the gate dialing started blaring in the control room.

"Off-world activation," Chuck announced as the wormhole connected.

"Who is it?" Elizabeth moved into the control room.

"We have an IDC," Chuck looked up from the laptop with a smile, "It's Colonel Sheppard's code!"

"Lower the shield," Elizabeth ordered as she ran from the control room.

"Yes, ma'am," Chuck agreed as his smile widened.

D tapped her radio and followed Elizabeth down the steps, "Medical personnel and security teams to the gate room. Colonel Sheppard's team has returned."

John motioned for the guards to lower their weapons as he, Ronon, and Teyla stepped through the event horizon. The gate shut off behind them as John stopped right in front of Elizabeth.

"Sorry we're late," John smirked.

Elizabeth grinned widely as D came to stand at her shoulder.

"Gentleman," D looked past the team to the guards standing by the gate, "Colonel Sheppard and his team have been held captive for the past ten days. If you're going to simply take his word that they're not a threat to this City or to Dr. Weir, perhaps I should speak with Major Lorne about assigning you to duties more suited to your skills. I hear Dr. Zelenka's waste disposal engineers are looking for a new escort."

The men quickly raised their weapons once more, training them on the three members of John's team.

"Really, Vaughn?" John drawled.

"Dr. Vaughn," Elizabeth sighed.

"Dr. Weir," D inclined her head, "They've been held by enemy forces for an extended amount of time and according to Dr. McKay, Specialist Dex and Ms. Emmagan were drugged against their will. Base protocol clearly dictates they are to be kept under guard until the medical staff can verify their identities and determine they are no threat to the City or her population. _Si vous faites une exception pour eux, les gens voudront savoir pourquoi_." [French: If you make an exception for them, people will want to know why.]

"I am aware you're using logic to manipulate me, D," Elizabeth raised an eyebrow, "And I'm not sure I like it."

"Yes, ma'am," D answered evenly, "I would never presume to manipulate you without your knowledge."

"Please call a medical team, Dr. Vaughn," Elizabeth commanded, "and have a security detail escort them to the infirmary."

"Wise decision, ma'am," D looked Elizabeth's shoulder to where the security team was hurrying into the gate room, followed by a two medics, "Oh look, here they are."

"Lieutenant, please escort Sheppard and his team to the infirmary," Elizabeth ordered the young man in uniform, "They are to remain under guard until Dr. Beckett says otherwise."

"Yes, ma'am," the Lieutenant nodded and stepped to the side, "If you would, Colonel."

"Are the semi-automatic weapons pointed in our direction necessary?" John asked resignedly.

"Have the two of you already gone through withdrawal from the Wraith enzyme?" D looked between Ronon and Teyla, "Or is it still in your systems?"

"I do not believe it is still in our systems," Teyla shook her head, "We are ourselves."

"Made us sick on the ship," Ronon agreed.

"Please don't point your weapons at the Colonel's team, Lt. Kagan," D smiled politely at the young man, "We wouldn't want to upset him."

"Yes, ma'am," Kagan bit back a smile as the men lowered their guns.

D looked down at her watch as she turned back to a smiling Elizabeth, "If you don't mind, I'll join you in the infirmary in two hours, ma'am. There are a few things I need to take care of first."

"Take your time," Elizabeth spoke over her shoulder as the group started to leave, "I'll call if I need anything."

"You never thought we were a threat," John spoke quietly as he crossed his arms across his chest, "Did you? Otherwise, you'd be going with Elizabeth to the infirmary."

"No, I didn't," D stepped closer to whisper up at him, "But as I've said, I'm developing a bit of a vindictive streak. You…and your team, of course, have cause Elizabeth a good deal of emotional distress. Seeing her upset makes me irritated with the people who made her that way."

"Anyone ever tell you that you're a pain in the ass, Vaughn?" John wondered.

"General O'Neill…right after he threatened to shoot me repeatedly," D smirked as she turned away, "Have fun with the big needles, Colonel."

"Let's get you to the infirmary, sir," Kagan watched D go up the steps, "I'd rather not get on Dr. Vaughn's bad side."

"You do remember that I'm still your CO, right, _Lieutenant_?" John started walking out of the room, "Dr. Vaughn doesn't actually have the authority to punish you."

"Tell that to Staff Sgt. Vasquez and Sgt. Steele, sir," Kagan snorted, "While you were gone, they were assigned to guard one of the secondary engineering labs. Dr. Vaughn caught them both flirting with a couple nurses in the mess hall when they were supposed to be on duty. She was really quiet when she talked to them so no one's sure what she said, but the Staff Sergeant turned white as a ghost and the next morning the two of them went to Major Lorne to report themselves. He assigned them both to baby-sit the botany team on 356 for the next month."

"Vasquez is a seasoned combat veteran," John scowled, "Marine Force Recon."

"Yes, sir," Kagan agreed, "and Steele did two tours in Iraq as part of a Special Ops team, but he still looked like he was going to piss himself."

"Good to know some of the most elite troops the US military has to offer," John rolled his eyes, "are scared of a five and a half foot tall woman who talks to them quietly."

"Yes, sir, Colonel," Kagan nodded seriously, "Terrified. It's the quiet ones you have to watch out for. You never know they're coming until it's too late."

"You may have a point, Lieutenant," John snorted.

_*AM*AM*AM*AM*AM*AM*AM*_

"All done, Dr. Beckett?" D looked over the small group standing around the two beds Teyla and Ronon where sitting on as she came into the infirmary.

"Aye," Carson agreed, "They're all one hundred percent themselves. No trace of the enzyme left in Ronon or Teyla."

"Satisfied, Vaughn?" John questioned.

"Not in years, Sheppard," D snorted and looked past him to Elizabeth, "Your schedule has been cleared until 0800 tomorrow, ma'am."

"It has?" Elizabeth raised an eyebrow.

"Yes, ma'am," D nodded, "I remembered that you wanted to go over the changes to the security protocols with Lt. Colonel Sheppard."

"I did," Elizabeth responded carefully.

"And since the Colonel can't seem to keep his team out of trouble-" D continued.

"Hey," John protested.

"-I assumed you'd want to have that discussion as soon as possible," D finished, "Before they go on another mission and get captured by the bad guys. _Again_."

"We don't get captured that often," John looked around to each member of his team, "Do we?"

Teyla only responded with a small smile and a quick nod.

"More than AR-2 through 6 combined," D gave him a flat stare, "That's why there are always extra teams on stand-by when you have a mission scheduled."

"I guess we'd better go over those protocols tonight then, while we're both available" Elizabeth bit back a smile as she looked over to Carson, "Is the Colonel cleared to leave the infirmary, Dr. Beckett?"

"Yes, the whole team is cleared," Carson nodded, "But I'd like to speak with you about the refugees from the planet."

"I'll take care of it, ma'am," D said, "Everything else can wait until tomorrow."

"Are you sure?" Elizabeth questioned, "The security protocols can wait if there's something important."

"_Vous êtes censé avoir une réunion avec les géologues à 1930_," D smiled, "_Laissez avant que je change mon esprit_, Elizabeth." [French: You are supposed to have a meeting with the geologists at 1930.] [French: Leave before I change my mind.]

"_Je vais garder ma radio à proximité au cas où vous besoin de quelque chose_," Elizabeth turned to leave, "_Merci_, D." [French: I'll keep my radio nearby in case you need something.] [French: Thank you.]

"I'll be sure to call you if there are any emergencies, ma'am," D reached over to grab John's elbow as he started to leave, leaning up to whisper in his ear, "If she's still in a bad mood tomorrow, I'm going to make your life very uncomfortable, John."

"I'm not sure whether to thank you," John looked down at her curiously, "or tell you to mind your own business."

"When in doubt," D released him, "Choose the former. Better not keep Dr. Weir waiting, Colonel."

John rolled his eyes as he left.

"When did we get new security protocols?" Rodney wondered.

"Several weeks ago," D answered easily, "There was a memo sent out, Dr. McKay."

"I probably blocked it out of my mind because it wasn't important," Rodney frowned at the door Elizabeth and John had left through, "I didn't get a chance to ask Sheppard where he left the dart. I wanted to take a look at it, see if we can get a better understanding of the technology."

"I anticipated your request," D looked over to Teyla, "If Teyla is willing to give us the address of the planet where the dart was left, there is a science team and a military escort getting ready now."

"I would be happy to supply the gate address," Teyla agreed as she stood, "and to accompany Dr. McKay back to the planet, if necessary."

"I'll go too," Ronon hopped off the gurney, "Wraith could show up."

"Actually, I'd like you to stay here, Teyla," D said, "The people we rescued from the Wraith culling are an agrarian society who appear to have an extensive knowledge of farming techniques. I believe some of them have expressed an interest in not going back to their planet. I was hoping you could speak to them as the leader of your people, see if you'd like to accept them on the mainland as refugees. I believe your two peoples could have plenty to teach each other."

"How did you know that?" Carson asked curiously, "That's what I was going to speak with Elizabeth about. They only mentioned staying here two hours ago."

"Very little happens in this City that I don't know about, Carson," D replied smoothly, "My network of spies is extensive."

"You've only been here six months," Rodney asked incredulously, "and you already have a _spy network_?"

"It's the Marines," Ronon snorted, "They like to gossip."

"Not just them," D grinned, "Would you mind speaking with the refugees this evening, Teyla?"

"I would not mind," Teyla smiled, "My people are always willing to take in as many refugees from the Wraith as we are able."

"They're in one of the empty cargo bays," Carson informed her, "Give me and my staff two hours to finish their medical exams, then you're free to speak to them all you wish."

"Of course, Carson," Teyla nodded.

"What about the dart?" Rodney questioned, "You said there was a science team getting ready."

"They'll be ready to leave in an hour," D replied, "Dr. Zelenka's engineers are still gathering their equipment. There should be just enough time for you to grab some food before you head to the planet."

"Come on, Conan," Rodney gestured for Ronon to follow, "Let's go get supper before we leave."

"Tater tots are on the menu tonight, so behave yourselves," D called after them, "If I get called to break up a fight between the two of you, I'm going to be pissed."

"Have you spoke to any of the people from the planet yet, Dr. Vaughn?" Teyla wondered.

"I haven't, no," D shook her head, "They've interacted very little with anyone outside the guards and Carson's staff."

"If you have the time," Teyla said, "I would like you to accompany me when I go to speak with their leaders."

"That's not necessary, Teyla," D replied easily, "Both Dr. Weir and I trust your judgment on whether the people of M59-693 would make good allies for Atlantis and the Athosians."

"While I am pleased to hear you say that," Teyla smiled serenely, "that is not why I am asking. I mentioned to Elizabeth several weeks ago that you would make an excellent negotiator. I would like you to come along and observe so you can sharpen your diplomacy skills."

"Oh," D blinked twice then continued uncertainly, "I'm taking care of Elizabeth's meetings until 2230, I'm not sure-"

"I shall wait until you are finished then," Teyla interjected, "Do you have any clothing besides your uniform or training outfit? Perhaps something less formal?"

"Well, no," D answered uneasily, "Not really."

Teyla looked D up and down, "We are of a similar size. Stop by my quarters at 2245. You may borrow some of my things."

"Okay…" D cleared her throat, "Sure. I'll be there."

"I shall see you then, D," Teyla inclined her head before she left, "Please do not be late."

Carson laughed at the confused expression on D's face and she turned to glare at him.

"Quite a different sensation when you're the one on the receiving end, isn't it?" Carson grinned.

"She wants me to be a diplomat," D frowned.

"What's wrong with that?" Carson asked, "Elizabeth is a diplomat."

"Yes and I have a great deal of respect for Elizabeth," D huffed, "But I'm nothing like her."

"You're more like Elizabeth, and Teyla for that matter, than you think, love," Carson argued.

"I don't negotiate with people, Carson," D protested, "I manipulate them into doing what I want them to do."

"From what I understand about the way Teyla negotiates," Carson said dryly, "It's pretty much the same thing."

"If you come up with an excuse to get me out of this," D offered hopefully, "I'll tell you who my spies are on your staff."

"As tempting as that is," Carson laughed again, "I think the experience will be good for you."

"_Carson_," D pouted.

"You'll survive, dear," Carson patted her arm.


	26. Response

"_Colonel Sheppard, please report to the infirmary_," a loud voice came over the PA, "_Colonel Sheppard, please report to the infirmary_."

John dropped a kiss on Elizabeth's cheek and sat up on the bed, groping quietly in the dim light for his clothes.

"John?" Elizabeth asked sleepily.

"It's fine, Liz," John stood as he slipped into his pants, "I'm being paged to the infirmary. Probably just some of my guys roughhousing again."

Elizabeth turned her head towards her radio as it started beeping on her bedside table.

"Or not," Elizabeth sighed and reached over to slip the earpiece on her ear, "This is Dr. Weir."

"_I'm sorry to wake you_, _Elizabeth_," Carson's quiet voice came over the radio, "_But I need you to_ _come to the infirmary_. _There's been an incident_."

"Is everyone all right?" Elizabeth sat up and accepted the shirt John held out towards her.

"_One of the refugees is being taken into surgery now_," Carson informed her, "_Dr. Vaughn has been injured as well, but she's being…_difficult _regarding her treatment_."

"I'll be there shortly," Elizabeth tapped off her earpiece.

"Problem?" John sat on the edge of Elizabeth's bed to lace his boots.

"It sounds like it," Elizabeth sighed as she finished dressing, "One of the refugees from M59-693 is headed into surgery. D was injured too, but apparently she's being obstinate again."

"Did you tell her about us?" John asked awkwardly as he stood, "Vaughn, I mean."

"No," Elizabeth shook her head, "But she's an incredibly observant person. She figured it out on her own."

"Yeah," John rubbed the back of his neck, "I kind of figured…with the whole 'security protocol' thing."

"Don't worry, John," Elizabeth tilted her head up to give him a quick kiss, "She's not going to say anything. If fact, I think this was her way of saying she approves."

"I'm glad we have the approval of your _assistant_," John rolled his eyes as he wrapped his arms around Elizabeth's waist to pull her close.

"Not that we need it," Elizabeth smiled, "but it does make things easier. How else would we have gotten most of a night to ourselves?"

"You know my men are terrified of her, right?" John drawled.

"I think it's most of the City at this point," Elizabeth laughed, "I can't imagine why. The only time D's ever even raised her voice was during the bug situation and I think that's just because she dislikes Caldwell."

"According to Lt. Kagan," John pecked Elizabeth on the lips before he released her, "It's the quiet ones you have to watch out for."

"Smart man," Elizabeth slipped on her shoes, "Let's go, Colonel. They're expecting us."

_*AM*AM*AM*AM*AM*AM*AM*_

"Damn it, D!" Carson shouted, "Will you just hold still and let me look at your bloody hand?"

"No," D replied angrily, "Give me the stupid suture kit and let me take care of it."

"You need far more than a couple of sutures," Carson moved towards her again, "Now give me your hand before you cause further damage by waving the damn thing around."

"I will not," D took another step back, "Either give me the kit, Carson, or I swear-"

"Hey!" Elizabeth came up behind Carson, John a step behind her, "What's going on?"

D glared at Carson as she growled lowly, "You called Elizabeth?"

"I certainly did," Carson straightened as he turned around to face Elizabeth, "Dr. Weir, please tell Dr. Vaughn to let me look at her hand before she gets any more blood on my nice, clean floors."

Carson stepped to the side and D shoved both hands behind her back immediately. She was dressed in one of Teyla's tight Athosian vests, a dark chocolate brown that was laced tightly up the center, and pair of tan leather pants over flat shoes of the same textured leather. Her hair was in a thick braid over one shoulder, tied at the end with a strip of braided leather that matched the pants and shoes.

"Dr. Weir," D inclined her head, "I apologize for Dr. Beckett's disruption of your night. I told him it wasn't necessary."

"It's fine," Elizabeth waved a hand, "What's wrong with your hand?"

"Nothing I can't take care of myself, ma'am," D glared at Carson again, "There's no need for you to stay."

John looked down to the small, growing puddle of blood on the floor behind D.

"Put both hands out in front of you, Vaughn," John ordered calmly.

"I don't take orders from you, Sheppard," D raised her chin.

"But you do take them from me," Elizabeth stepped forward, "Hands, now. Both of them."

"It's not nearly as bad as it looks," D sighed as she held both hands out. While her left was unscathed, the right had a short knife with an intricately carved wooden handle stuck through the middle.

"Oh my god, D," Elizabeth reached forward to grasp the injured hand gently, "How is this not as bad as it looks? There's a knife stuck in your hand."

"That's what I said," Carson frowned, "She won't let me take her to the scanner to assess the damage to her hand."

"And I already told you," D scowled down at her hand, "The knife is embedded between two of the metacarpals and while it did nick the superficial palmar arch, it didn't do any permanent damage to the tendons. I've managed to slow the bleeding and if you would give me the suture kit I asked for, I could take the dagger out and start stitching myself up."

"You can't know for certain what-" Carson started.

"Yes, I can," D argued, "I was right about the concussion and skull fracture. You didn't believe me then either."

"Even if that's true," Carson stepped forward, "I'm not going to let you suture your own hand. You'll need anesthetics and antibiotics, not to mention stitching that many layers of tissue is a very delicate process and it will take quite a bit of time."

"If you had given me the kit when I asked for it," D said sweetly, "I could've been a quarter of the way through the process already."

"_Enough_, both of you!" Elizabeth interjected as she released D's hand, "D, no more arguing with Carson. Let him fix your hand before you bleed out all over the floor. Carson, you can treat D's hand while she gives us her report."

"Elizabeth," D protested.

"Do I need to make that an order, Dr. Vaughn?" Elizabeth raised an eyebrow.

"No, ma'am," D ducked her head.

"Good," Elizabeth stepped back as Carson moved forward to take D's hand, "Now, what happened?"

"Carson and Teyla thought I would make a good diplomat," D rolled her eyes as Carson led her over to the scanner, "Obviously that didn't work out."

"How does that lead to you having a knife stuck through your hand?" John questioned.

"Hold still, lass," Carson placed D's hand on a large piece of gauze laid in the center of a folded white cloth. He stepped back and the scanner started moving.

"I needed to justify what I was going to do to the Matriarch's son," D stated evenly, "Or rather, I wanted Teyla to be able to justify my actions to the Matriarch in order to keep their deal intact."

"What does that mean exactly?" Elizabeth asked cautiously, "'Justify your actions'."

"It sounds like you let him stab you on purpose," John said carefully.

"I did," D shrugged.

"You _let_ him stab you?" Elizabeth's jaw dropped.

"It was the only way I could get away with breaking his arm," D looked over to Elizabeth, "I certainly wasn't going to have sex with the moron."

"D," Elizabeth pinched the bridge of nose, "It's the middle of the night."

"0223, ma'am," D agreed.

"Well, it looks like you were right about the damage," Carson moved away from the screen as the scanner stopped, "I'll need to take you into one of the surgical suites. You'll need to be sedated so I can remove the knife and suture your wound without you interfering."

"No," D said flatly.

"Dr. Vaughn," Carson straightened angrily, "I know what I am doing. You're coming with me to the surgical suite."

"Absolutely not," D refused.

"I did specify no more arguing," Elizabeth pointed out.

"I'm not arguing, ma'am," D stated calmly, "I am stating a fact. I am not going to let Dr. Beckett sedate me."

"Now you listen here, lass," Carson shook his finger at D.

D reached down and yanked the knife out of her hand, setting it on the scanner bed as a fresh stream of blood soaked the gauze.

"There," D declared quietly, "Knife out."

"Oh, good lord," Carson rushed over to grab a large stack of fresh gauze from a nearby tray. He stomped over to D and pressed the gauze against the wound, trying to stem the flow of blood, "What the hell were you thinking? You could've done a lot of damage pulling the damn thing out like that. I know your pain tolerance is exceptionally high, but even _you_ can go into shock from something like this."

"It doesn't hurt," D watch with a detached interest as Carson fussed over her hand, "and this way you didn't have to sedate me. You only have to stitch it up. I'm perfectly capable of holding still for the duration."

"Ridiculous child," Carson swore under his breath, "Doesn't hurt my arse."

"Carson," D moved his hand away and pressed the thumb of her left hand into the wound on her right, "It doesn't _hurt_. See?"

"Stop that, right now," Carson lifted her hand away quickly, "before you make it worse."

"That doesn't hurt?" Elizabeth asked warily.

"No, ma'am," D shook her head, "My pain response won't normalize for at least another eight hours."

"Pain response?" Elizabeth flicked her glance over to John, "_Est-ce un effet secondaire d'aider _Rodney_ hier_?" [French: Is this a side-effect from helping Rodney yesterday?]

"_Oui, madame_," D nodded. [French: Yes, ma'am.]

Elizabeth narrowed her eyes at D, "_Vous m'avez dit que vous arrêteriez si cela a obtenu dangereux_." [French: You told me you would stop if it got dangerous.]

"_Ce n'est pas dangereux_," D shrugged, "_Je ne vais pas l'expérience de la douleur pendant au moins douze heures_." [French: It's not dangerous.] [French: I won't experience any pain for at least twelve hours.]

"How is that not-" Elizabeth cut herself off abruptly, taking a deep breath before she continued evenly, "Colonel Sheppard and I are going to go get reports from everyone else involved. You are going to stay here with Dr. Beckett. Just so there is no confusion, I am _ordering_ you to give Dr. Beckett a full explanation for whatever it is you did yesterday. While you are doing that, you will cooperate fully with whatever medical procedures he deems necessary for your injury," Elizabeth held up a hand to keep D silent when she opened her mouth, "other than sedation. How long has it been since you slept?"

"Fifty-six hours, ma'am," D ducked her head as she replied quietly, "I slept for three hours. Forty-seven hours awake before that."

"And since you ate?" Elizabeth questioned.

"I had a power bar and a bottle of water at 2000, ma'am," D answered, "An apple and a piece of toast for breakfast at 0630."

"Someone will deliver a meal to the infirmary for you," Elizabeth continued in her firm tone, "and Carson will watch you eat the entire thing. After that, you will report directly to your quarters, where you will sleep for a minimum of ten hours straight. I'll come to your quarters at 1530 tomorrow and you will give me the same explanation you gave Carson over a late lunch. If I find out you've deviated from my orders in the slightest – and believe me, Dr. Vaughn, I _will_ find out – the consequences will be extremely unpleasant for you. Do you understand?"

"Yes, ma'am," D kept her gaze on the floor.

"Dr. Beckett," Elizabeth turned to him, "Thank you for calling me. Please inform your staff that from now on any time Dr. Vaughn is brought into the infirmary for any reason, I am to be contacted immediately, no matter the time."

"Of course, Dr. Weir," Carson agreed.

"Where is Teyla now?" Elizabeth asked.

"She's with the Matriarch in the observation room," Carson gestured with his chin as he switched out the bloody gauze on D's hand, "above suite three."

"Thank you," Elizabeth started walking in the direction Carson had indicated, "Colonel Sheppard, with me please."

When John finally caught up with Elizabeth at the top of the stairs, he pulled her to a stop with a light grip on her elbow.

"If I ask what happened between Vaughn and McKay yesterday," John dropped his hand, "are you going to give me a straight answer?"

"No," Elizabeth tightened her jaw, "and to be honest, I'm not entirely sure what happened myself."

"Then why are you so ticked off at her right now?" John asked.

"I'm not really mad at her," Elizabeth insisted, "I'm mad at myself because I was so wrapped in everything that was going on, I forgot that given half the chance D would work herself to death trying to do what I wanted. I'm mad because I let her take care of everyone else at the expense of her own well-being. I'm mad because I took advantage of her nature by not paying enough attention."

"You couldn't have known something like this would happen, Elizabeth," John said, "There's no way you could've predicted she'd let someone stab her."

"_Ce ne serait pas la première fois_," Elizabeth muttered under her breath. [French: It wouldn't be the first time.]

"What?" John wondered.

"I _should_ have known better," Elizabeth took a deep breath, her voice strong when she continued, "I won't be making that mistake again."

"Isn't Vaughn supposed to be taking care of you," John drawled, "not the other way around?"

"Is that what she told you?" Elizabeth raised an eyebrow.

"That's what most people assume," John studied Elizabeth's face carefully, "Are they wrong?"

"Not wrong," Elizabeth replied cautiously, "They just don't have the whole story. I'm just as responsible for D as she is for me."

"Does she know that?" John asked softly.

"Of course, she…" Elizabeth trailed off with a frown and looked back towards the infirmary.

"You know I don't normally stick my nose in other people's business," John shoved his hands in his pockets, "in fact, I try to avoid it as much as possible, but if _I_ thought you were pissed at her, imagine what she must be thinking."

"Crap," Elizabeth closed her eyes with a soft sigh, "_Elle n'a aucune idée que je ne suis pas en colère contre elle. J'ai fait qu'empirer les choses_." [French: She has no idea that I'm not mad at her. I made things worse.]

"I'm going to have to learn some French," John smiled at Elizabeth as she opened her eyes to look up at him, "I'm not sure what you just said, but I can guess. I can take care of the incident reports if you want to…"

"No, it's all right," Elizabeth straightened, "I'll speak with her tomorrow. This needs to be handled now."

"You're the boss," John stepped to the side, "I'll get a report from the Marines so you can talk with Teyla."

"Thank you, Colonel," Elizabeth walked into the waiting room.


	27. Unnatural

**There is a discussion in this chapter of attempted sexual assault/non-con. Please do not read if that will upset you.**

* * *

Matriarch Otelia of the Pulooy was a tall woman, broad muscled shoulders and arms, with warm sepia skin and hair that reached to her waist, the gray and white strands pulled back into an elaborate thick braid and decorated with small, colorful beads. She wore a sleeveless raspberry colored tunic that ended mid-thigh, belted around her middle with a broad belt made of something that looked like woven hemp, over loose linen pants in a darker red. Tanned leather boots came up to her knees, tied tightly around the calves with the same woven hemp and there was a small wooden sheath attached to her belt. There were wrinkles around her piercing amber eyes and she spoke with a soft lilt when Teyla introduced her to Elizabeth.

"I have heard many things about you," Otelia's eyes raked over Elizabeth quickly.

"I hope they were good things," Elizabeth spoke politely, "I apologize for not coming to speak with you myself before now."

"You need not apologize for that," Otelia gestured around the room, "I imagine it takes a great deal of work to be the leader of a place such as this."

"It does," Elizabeth agreed, "but I have help."

"An adequate leader surrounds herself with loyal people," Otelia smiled sharply, "A good leader surrounds herself with wise people. A great leader surrounds herself with those who are both. What type of leader are you, Dr. Weir?"

"I believe you have already met several of the people I surround myself with, Matriarch," Elizabeth returned the tight smile.

"I have," Otelia glanced over to Teyla and crossed her arms across her chest, "The Emmagan tells me the _eterinės_ _faetae _belongs to you."

Elizabeth looked over to Teyla curiously.

"_Eterinės_ _faetae _does not have a direct translation in your language," Teyla explained quietly, "It means something close to 'unnaturally beautiful feminine creature'. I believe in this instance the Matriarch is referring to D."

"D does not belong to anyone," Elizabeth straightened, "but I am responsible for her, yes. I didn't get the chance to speak to her for very long, but I understand there was incident between her and your son. Dr. Beckett said that he was in surgery now. I hope he wasn't hurt too badly."

"The _eterinės_ _faetae_ broke his arm severely," Otelia eyed Elizabeth shrewdly, "Reparations must be made. Name your price."

"I'm sorry, Matriarch," Elizabeth said cautiously, "I'm afraid I don't understand what you are saying."

"Could you tell us what you mean by reparations in this particular case?" Teyla questioned.

"Among our people, if a man treats a woman the way my _son_," Otelia glared through the glass down at her unconscious son as the medical staff treated him, "treated the _eterinės_ _faetae_, he would labor for her family for two hundred cycles. The Emmagan has told me that while her people are farmers, yours are not. Regardless, payment must still be made to both the girl and her family."

"Could you tell me exactly what happened between them?" Elizabeth asked carefully, "So I can better understand the situation."

"My son is still young and unaccustomed to being denied," Otelia sighed and dropped her arms back to her sides, "Leadership among my people is passed from daughter to daughter and my only daughter was taken by a fever many seasons ago. Whoever my son chooses for his wife will become Matriarch when I die. This makes him much desired among the women on our planet. He trades on his status as my son to bed as many beautiful women as he can. The first one to bear him a child becomes his wife and my heir. He is foolish enough to prize beauty over wisdom, but thankfully smart enough to take precautions when he lies with his conquests so he has yet to father a child. He became enamored with…what did you call the _eterinės_ _faetae_?"

"D," Elizabeth answered.

"He became captivated by D's beauty," Otelia continued, "We have never seen a women with hair and eyes of such unusual colors. My son tried to charm the girl, but I believe his attention only made her uncomfortable. After the _saka_ was passed around, I praised the girl for her insight during the trade negotiations."

"_Saka_?" Elizabeth wondered curiously.

"A sweet wine made from a fruit that grows abundantly on their planet," Teyla explained, "It is a custom among the Pulooy to share a jug at the conclusion of a successful trade agreement. It is…quite potent."

"My approval of the _eter-_of Dcaused my son's desire to have her grow and he drank more of _saka_ than he could handle. He mistook her polite smiles as encouragement. When she stood to leave, he grabbed her arm. She requested, more graciously than I would have in her position, that he release her. He refused and drew the knife given to him by my father. He threatened to carve out the girl's eyes if she refused his bed. She warned him that if he did not release her immediately, she would defend herself. The stupid, drunken fool attacked her," Otelia's voice grew harsh with anger, "but the girl managed to get her hand in front of her face before he could damage her eyes. From what your healers said when they arrived, she broke both the bones in his arm before your guards came to separate them. I fear my son would have tried to attack the girl again had they not intervened. His behavior is shameful and he _will_ be made to pay for it."

"I see," Elizabeth pursed her lips, "and is D to pay for the damage done to your son as well?"

"No," Otelia shook her head, "The _eterinės_ _faetae_ was only defending herself. The fault is my son's and his alone. As the head of her family, it falls to you to name my son's punishment."

"Among my people," Elizabeth spoke calmly, "it is customary for an impartial third party to determine guilt and mete out punishment once all the facts have been established. If I am to be considered the head of D's family, it would be impossible for me to decide his punishment in an unbiased manner."

"I understand," Otelia nodded once, "Perhaps there is a way for both our laws to be upheld."

"What would you suggest, Matriarch?" Elizabeth inquired evenly.

"If you insist that a third party must mete out justice," Otelia shifted her gaze to Teyla, "I would consent to having the Emmagan decide my son's fate. She has proven herself both wise and fair in our negotiations and was there to witness my son's transgressions firsthand."

"Teyla?" Elizabeth turned to her, "You don't have to agree if you are uncomfortable in any way."

"If you both agree to abide by my decision," Teyla looked between the two of them, "I would be willing to act as your impartial judge."

"I will agree," Elizabeth nodded, "Provided your ruling does not break any further laws."

"I agree to those terms," Otelia inclined her head.

"Very well," Teyla drew herself up straight, "Matriarch Otelia, for his transgressions against Dr. Weir's family, your son will forfeit the knife he used to attack D. When your son is sufficiently recovered, he will personally create a tunic and pants for D, dyed gray to match the eyes he threatened to take from her. Every step will be done by himself, from planting and harvesting the crops to weaving and sewing the garments. He will have no assistance and the quality of the garments shall pass approval by your finest weaver or he will start over. You, Matriarch, will speak with every woman your son has taken to his bed to make sure he has not coerced any others as he did D. If he has, I expect you to punish him according to the full extent your laws. Until both these requirements are met, your son is to remain celibate."

"It will take several months for our crops to grow on your mainland," Otelia narrowed her eyes at Teyla.

"Then your son will have several months to reflect on the poor choices," Teyla raised an eyebrow at the taller woman, "that led to his punishment."

Otelia threw her head back and burst out in raucous laughter, a brilliant smile deepening the wrinkles on her face.

"You could have used my son's actions against me, changed our trade agreement to favor your people," Otelia's eyes twinkled as she looked between Elizabeth and Teyla, "You are both very great leaders indeed. I believe all our peoples will prosper from this alliance."

"It pleases me to hear you say that, Otelia," Teyla smiled warmly, "If you would not mind, I would like to show Elizabeth some examples of the many fine fabrics your people create."

"Of course. Matie will be happy to show you," Otelia agreed, "He is our finest weaver. The garments he makes are truly handsome. And tell Cassla to give Elizabeth a jug of _saka_ from my stores. A gift…from one leader to another."

"Thank you for you kind words, Otelia," Elizabeth smiled, "and for your generosity. If you have the time, I would like to speak with you tomorrow, get to know you and your people better."

"I will make the time to speak with you, Elizabeth," Otelia inclined her head, "I would get to know you and your people better as well."

_*AM*AM*AM*AM*AM*AM*AM*_

Before Elizabeth could ring the chime on D's door, it slid open in front of her. Elizabeth stepped inside, balancing the two trays of food she carried.

"D?" Elizabeth asked quietly as she peered around the decorative wall next to the door, "You here?"

"Ma'am," D sat up suddenly in her bed, sheet pooling around her naked waist as she blinked rapidly, "I apologize. I meant to set an alarm. I must've forgotten."

D stood quickly, unmindful of her nudity as she pulled open the middle drawer in the single tall dresser in the room. She retrieved a pair of slim black leggings, pulling them on before opening another drawer and taking out an oversized black sweatshirt that she slipped over her head. She ran the fingers of her left hand through her long hair several times, smoothing it out as best she could.

"It's fine. I'm sure you needed the sleep," Elizabeth looked around the room for a place to set the trays. The room was undecorated save for several mirrors in various sizes hung on the walls and a large metal footlocker shoved against one side of the bed. The only furniture besides the dresser was the standard twin-size bed and the long couch that were present in all the living quarters found in the City.

"I don't have many things," D explained as she shifted from foot to foot, "Old habits, as they say. Never know if I'm going to have to leave someplace suddenly."

"Except the mirrors," Elizabeth set the trays down in the middle of the couch, "Come sit down and eat please."

"Yes, ma'am," D moved over to sit rigidly on the opposite side of the couch and started to unwrap a sandwich from the nearest tray.

"So why the mirrors?" Elizabeth asked curiously, "And why so many?"

"I can see the entire room from any position, ma'am," D looked at the closest mirror, "No one can hide in here."

"D, stop ma'am-ing me," Elizabeth sighed, "You're not in trouble."

"I'm not?" D asked quietly.

"Not beyond the fact that you weren't taking care of yourself properly, no," Elizabeth shook her head, "But I blame myself for that just as much as you."

"Oh," D ducked her head down as she sat back on the couch, tucking her legs underneath her on the cushion, "I thought you were upset because I injured that idiot boy."

"No," Elizabeth nibbled on her sandwich, "Especially not after the story the Matriarch told me."

"She wasn't upset?" D looked up at Elizabeth warily, "I snapped both the bones in her son's left arm."

"Otelia was extremely upset, but with the way her son treated you," Elizabeth clarified, "She insisted he be punished. His knife is yours to keep and he is hand-crafting you clothing as part of Teyla's ruling. He has to do everything by himself, from planting to sewing."

"That knife is an heirloom," a hesitant smile spread across D's face, "and the clothing will take five months, at least."

"And the man has to remain celibate the entire time," Elizabeth grinned.

"Teyla is…" D shook her head with a soft smile, "I like her and I never want to piss her off. I'm glad she's on our side, especially after seeing her negotiate."

"Both Teyla and Otelia were impressed with the way you handle the negotiations as well," Elizabeth watched as D took a small bite and chewed it slowly, "The Matriarch said you were very insightful. Teyla believes her people got a better deal because you were there to help."

"I'm not sure that's true," D shrugged, "I only offered my observations, nothing anyone else couldn't have done with the proper training."

"But _you_ were the one who made them," Elizabeth insisted, "Not anyone else. Don't sell yourself short, D. You have more to offer than you think."

"Yes, ma'am," D ducked her head and took another bite of her sandwich.

They ate in silence for several minutes until Elizabeth caught the uncontrolled flinch when D tried to wrap her bandaged hand around the water bottle to hold it steady enough to open it. Elizabeth gently took the bottle from D, twisting off the cap and handing it back.

"Thanks," D took a quick drink before she set the bottle down on the floor, "Carson came by a couple hours ago. I think the painkiller he gave me wore off. I'm supposed to go back to the infirmary so he can change the bandage and give me another pain pill. I think he wanted to keep me there overnight but I…I don't sleep well in hospitals."

"Understandable," Elizabeth finished the last of her sandwich.

"I need a lot more sleep when I'm healing," D continued nervously, "that's why I wasn't awake when you arrived."

"It's not a big deal," Elizabeth assured her.

"Aren't you going to ask?" D blurted out the words, "About what I did to Rodney?"

"I haven't decided," Elizabeth answered honestly.

"I don't understand," D tilted her head to the side, "You ordered me to tell Carson last night. You don't want to know yourself?"

"I was upset last night because I did something I swore to myself I wasn't going to do," Elizabeth spoke carefully, "I took you for granted."

"You didn't-" D began.

"I did, D," Elizabeth sat forward, "I was so caught up in the search for Colonel Sheppard and his team that I didn't notice how hard you were pushing yourself. Just because you _can_ function on a minimal amount of sleep and little food doesn't mean you _should_. I put my concerns for the team ahead of your well-being and I'm sorry for that. I can't promise it won't happen again, but I will try my hardest to ensure that it doesn't."

"Elizabeth, I-" D looked at her curiously, then looked down at the bandaged hand in her lap. She cleared her throat, then looked back up at Elizabeth, determination in her eyes as she spoke calmly, "When Dr. James injected me, they did more than just alter parts of my DNA. There was an unintended side-effect, one that on no one ever realized. Something that, according to all their theories and tests, shouldn't have happened."

"You don't have to tell me," Elizabeth said softly, "if you don't want to."

"I know," D nodded, "but I think…I've never told anyone until last night. I explained it to Carson but…I think I'd like you to know too. It might help us understand each other a little better."

"All right," Elizabeth agreed.

"They gave me control," D looked down at her hand again, "in a way that's difficult to explain, difficult to believe. The reason I am so careful who I touch and who I allow to touch me…" D frowned slightly at her hand before she continued softly, "Imagine if you could see every cell in your body all spread out in your mind – every red blood cell, every nerve, every layer of dermis. Imagine instead of using only ten percent of your brain's potential, you were able to harness closer to twenty or thirty percent of that potential. Imagine you found a way to use that extra mental capacity to your advantage, slowly learning to manipulate those cells in an advantageous way. Now imagine you are a five year old child," D looked back up at Elizabeth's face and there was a flash of fear in her eyes as she continued, "and there are people hurting you in the name of science. How long before you learned to dial back your pain receptors? How long before you learned to control your own heartbeat and breathing in order to give them the responses they were looking for? Imagine you are a sixteen year old girl and you're sent into some of the worst place in the world, ending up injured and alone, knowing no one will come to save you. How long before you learn to slow down blood loss in your wounds so you don't bleed out in a back alley? How long before you learn that you can manipulate your target to a certain extent, merely by touching them in the right way?"

"Not long at all, I would assume," Elizabeth responded carefully, "Is that what you did to Rodney?"

"I tricked his body into thinking that he was feeling pleasure instead of pain," D explained, "The two sensations can be confused naturally by a person's brain anyway, so it's not that difficult to nudge along. I wasn't sure it would work on Rodney because he had so much enzyme in his system, but his mind proved to be incredibly stubborn."

"And the downside?" Elizabeth questioned.

"My cells have to normalize after manipulation," D answered, "The same amount of time I spent turning pain into pleasure for Rodney, my body turned pleasure into pain. The reason the knife didn't hurt last night is because I was still feeling the opposite of what I should. It was actually quite a pleasant sensation until a couple hours ago. I also slowed the bleeding in my hand for two hours. If I had been cut for two hours after that, I would've bleed twice as much as normal. I've learned to work through the after-effects and I only use this…ability, for lack of a better word, when it's necessary."

"Was helping Rodney considered necessary by you?" Elizabeth asked evenly, "Or did you do it for me?"

"Dr. Beckett could've controlled McKay's pain, but he still would've felt it," D tilted her chin up, "If you had said no, I still would've gone back to help him, even if it meant keeping a secret from you."

"Thank you," Elizabeth responded softly, "both for telling me and for caring enough to help Rodney, even if it meant you experienced the after-effects."

"No one should suffer like that if it can be avoided," D reached for her water, "I'd have done the same for most of the people here."

"Most?" Elizabeth raised an eyebrow.

"If it was Caldwell or the Matriarch's lech of a son," D huffed, "I might've let them suffer for a while."

Elizabeth laughed brightly as a grin spread across D's face.


	28. Working

"Rodney," John tried to take the tablet away, but Rodney glared at him over the top of it, "It's movie night. No working, remember?"

"This isn't working," Rodney smacked John's hand away as he made another grab for the tablet, "These are schematics for the Wraith dart that I spent the last two days studying. And Teyla chose the Princess Bride…again. I've seen it a dozen times already. I can look at these and watch at the same time."

"If Rodney wishes to be distracted during the movie," Teyla looked between the two of them, "then let him. Perhaps he will not eat as much of the popcorn this way."

"Hey," Rodney protested, "I only take my fair share."

Ronon snorted as he handed John a large bowl of popcorn and sank down on the pile of pillows in front the couch with his own large bowl. Rodney reached over into John's lap to take a handful of popcorn as the door chime sounded. John used the distraction to try to grab Rodney's tablet again, tipping the bowl over dangerously as Rodney scooted away.

"If there is popcorn in my couch cushions again," Teyla moved to answer the door, "the two of you will be cleaning my room."

"Cleaning your room?" D asked curiously.

"D," Teyla smiled as she ushered D into the room, "Have you come to join us for movie night again this evening? We are watching the Princess Bride and there is popcorn available if you can convince Rodney to share."

"I share," Rodney huffed.

"Since when?" John drawled.

"I wasn't planning on staying. I just came by to return your clothes," D held out the neatly folded garments in her left hand, shoes balanced on top, "I would've been by before now, but every time I try to leave my room, one of Carson's nurses shows up. I only managed to sneak out this evening."

"There was no rush," Teyla assured her as she accepted the clothes, "How is your wound?"

"It's healing fine," D pulled the sleeve of her large gray sweatshirt down to cover most of her bandaged hand, "Thank you for asking."

"What wound?" Ronon narrowed his eyes at D, "Why are you hiding it?"

"I got stabbed in the hand," D sighed and moved over to sit cross-legged next to Ronon, holding her right hand out so he could inspect it, "Matriarch Otelia's son wanted my eyes."

"He wanted your _eyes_?" Rodney looked up from the tablet, "What does that even mean?"

"The Pulooy people only have iris colors ranging from pale amber to dark brown," D explained as Ronon carefully unwound the bandage on her hand, "Vathek wanted his wife and children to have something different."

"Wife and children?" Rodney's eyes widened, "You mean he wanted..."

"He tried to carve out my eyes when I refused to have sex with him," D shrugged, "I figured letting him stab me in the hand was better than losing an eye."

"He what?" Ronon growled and tightened his hands around D's.

"The Matriarch was quite impressed with D's handling of the situation," Teyla informed them, "And very disappointed in her son's actions."

D slapped Ronon's arm to get his attention, "Dex."

Ronon looked up from her hand with an angry glare.

"I defended myself and he's been punished according to their laws," D spoke quietly, "You're squeezing my hand and it's starting to hurt."

"Sorry," Ronon relaxed his grip, "You hurt him?"

"Marines said she snapped his arm like a twig," John smirked as he threw a piece of popcorn in his mouth.

"Your Marines are prone to over-exaggeration," D rolled her eyes, "He was mostly drunk and I doubt he's ever been in more than a bar brawl in his entire life. It was hardly a fair fight."

"You broke a guy's arm?" Rodney asked incredulously, "_After_ he stabbed you in the hand? How do you know how to do that? I thought you were some sort of analyst. Why does an analyst know how to break an arm?"

"You've seen my personnel file, Rodney," D looked up at him, "Out of all the agencies I worked for, don't you think at least one of them would've taken the time to teach me how to defend myself?"

"Clean edges," Ronon held D's hand up closer to his face to inspect the stitched wound, "Slid in easy. Where's the knife?"

"It's an heirloom," D reached into her sweatpants pocket to pull out the short knife wrapped in a length of black cloth, "I got to keep it as part of the idiot's punishment."

"You keep a knife in your sweatpants?" John wondered.

"Where else would I put it?" D asked curiously as she handed Ronon the blade, "I'm wearing socks with no shoes."

"Never mind," John snorted, "Obviously a dumb question."

"I was actually going to ask Teyla if she had any contacts that are good with leather work," D looked over her shoulder to where Teyla was sitting in a large, over-stuffed chair, "I was hoping one of them could make a sheath for the knife so I could carry it."

"I would be happy to ask," Teyla nodded, "There are several people among those we trade with that could create something appropriate for you."

Ronon pricked his thumb with the point of the blade and blood started welling up. He stuck his thumb in his mouth to clean off the blood before he tapped a fingernail on the metal, "Strange metal."

"Strange how?" Rodney set his tablet next to him and leaned forward to look at the knife.

"It's strong and sharp, looks used often," Ronon handed the knife over to Rodney, "Blade's an heirloom, but it doesn't look like it's been sharpened for a long time. Most blades I've encountered require honing and sharpening after years of use."

"If it's an heirloom," Rodney turned the blade over carefully in his hands, "It's possible he's never…hmmm."

"What 'hmmm'?" John questioned.

"This almost looks like…" Rodney trailed off.

"Refined naquadah," D finished as Ronon started rewrapping her injured hand, "I was going to ask Major Lorne about that tomorrow morning when he returns. If it is naquadah and the Pulooy are willing-"

"It could solve a lot of problems for us," Rodney stood as he interrupted, "I'm going to take this to the geology lab now and have them test it. This could be a huge find. Naquadah is a major component in a lot of Ancient technology, including the Stargates themselves, but we haven't been able to find a source for it in the Pegasus Galaxy yet. They even used a naquadah-based alloy for the construction of Atlantis. This could make repairing the City go much faster."

"Sit down, Rodney," John tugged him back down to the couch, "It can wait until tomorrow. No work on movies nights."

"But-" Rodney protested.

"I'm sure Vaughn doesn't want her brand-new knife," John gave D an expectant look, "in the hands of the geologists without her there."

"Of course not. You know how the geologists are, McKay," D replied smoothly as she held out her left hand towards Rodney, "They'd need constant supervision for something like this and I couldn't possibly do it tonight, being injured and all. The painkillers Beckett's got me on are pretty strong. I might fall asleep in the middle of the lab and who knows what the geologists would do then."

"First thing in the morning," Rodney glared at D as he handed the knife back, "I expect you to meet me in the geology lab."

"Dr. Beckett's supposed to clear me for light duty in the morning," D nodded, "I'll be there at 0900."

"Fine," Rodney huffed and picked up his tablet again.

"Before you get all wrapped up in Wraith schematics," John put a hand over the tablet, "Start the movie."

"You're staying," Ronon finished wrapping D's hand.

"But I was-" D started.

"We're watching The Princess Bride," John interjected, "It's one of Teyla's favorites."

"The book was better," Rodney reached over to his laptop and tapped a couple keys. The movie appeared on the large hanging screen across from the couch and chairs.

"Books usually are," D moved from the floor to sit between John and Rodney on the couch, leaning over Rodney to set the knife by his laptop on the small table, "As long as I get to look at the Wraith specs, I'll stay."

"I agree the book was better," John moved the popcorn over into D's lap so Rodney could grab a handful, "But the movie's pretty awesome too, so we're watching it."

"I've only ever read the book, so I wouldn't know," D looked over to John curiously, "You've read the Princess Bride?"

"He could've been in MENSA," Rodney snorted.

"I already knew that," D rolled her eyes, "and that has absolutely no bearing on him reading The Princess Bride."

Ronon leaned back against D's legs as the movie started playing.

"Are you three going to be talking through the entire movie?" Teyla raised an eyebrow at them.

"Sorry," D ducked her head and leaned over to Rodney to whisper, "Move the tablet this way so I can see too."

"These are for the weapons systems," Rodney shifted closer as he moved the tablet halfway between himself and D, "I have the dematerializer specs on here too."

"Cool," D grinned as she looked down at the screen, "You figure them out yet?"

"Not yet," Rodney shook his head, "But I just started looking at them. We worked on the engine components while we were-"

"Shhh," John threw a piece of popcorn over D to hit Rodney in the back of the head, "No work talk on movie nights."

"It's not work," D grabbed the kernel from Rodney's lap and threw it over her shoulder at John, "It's fun."

"Exactly," Rodney smirked at John as he grabbed a handful of popcorn, dropping several pieces into D's lap as he ate.

"You're both weird," Ronon dropped his head back onto D's lap, "Quiet."

"The three of you are getting popcorn on my couch," Teyla sighed as she moved from the chair to lay on the pillows with her head in Ronon's lap, "You _will_ be cleaning it up before you leave."

"Yes, ma'am," they all replied quickly.

_*AM*AM*AM*AM*AM*AM*AM*_

Elizabeth looked up as D stomped into her office, a stack of tablets balanced in her left hand as she muttered under her breath in clipped Russian.

"Dr. Beckett only cleared you for light duty, Dr. Vaughn," Elizabeth raised an eyebrow at the young woman, "What are you doing with all those?"

"Catching up on the two weeks' worth of paperwork," D dropped the tablets onto Elizabeth's desk, "that seems to have accumulated in the last five days. This is ridiculous. It's like these people have forgotten how to function without a bloody babysitter. I'm feeling a very strong urge to send a sternly worded email to all the department heads on their complete and utter lack of-"

"Have you been spending time with Rodney again?" Elizabeth interrupted as a grin spread across her face.

"Yeah, I was in the lab with him most of yesterday. Sign this," D nodded and pushed the first of the tablets towards Elizabeth, "I also got roped into watching Princess Bride with his team the night before last. He had the schematics from the Wraith dart with him that I wanted to see."

"Anything interesting in them?" Elizabeth entered her electronic signature and moved the tablet out of the way.

"Security reports. The things you need to be concerned about are highlighted," D handed Elizabeth the next tablet, "The Wraith dematerializer might prove useful if Zelenka's engineers can figure out how to reverse engineer one. Dr. McKay already assigned a group to look into it."

"Useful how?" Elizabeth skimmed over the security reports, noting the parts that D had highlighted, "Why didn't I hear anything about this incident in the mess?"

"The timestamp," D leaned over to point at the tablet, "Only happened last night and your meeting with First Sgt. Stiles isn't until 1430 today. He'll explain in detail then."

"All right," Elizabeth nodded and set aside the tablet, "The dematerializer?"

"If the engineers can figure out how to reverse engineer one using Earth-based materials," D scrolled through another tablet before handing it to Elizabeth, "We'd be able better utilize the space allotted on the _Daedalus_ for both mission-critical and personal items. This week's requisitions. Nothing to be concerned about for once, which is shockingly pleasant."

"Do you think the engineers will be able to figure it out any time soon?" Elizabeth signed the tablet and put it to the side, "Being able to get more personal items here in the City would boost morale considerably, not to mention Major Lorne could quit sending me inventory reports about what he calls the 'woefully understocked' armory once a week."

"If the team is allowed to concentrate solely on this project, I'd say a month or so, but in reality it'll be at least two months. And Major Lorne is using polite phrasing about the armory, ma'am," D gave Elizabeth a flat stare, "Whether you like to acknowledge it or not, Atlantis is at the center of an intergalactic war that has been raging for millennia. And while I understand that this is meant to be a scientific expedition, if Atlantis came under attack, the scientists would be expected to defend themselves. Even if there _were_ enough weapons and ammunition to go around, half of them have never fired live ammunition outside a range setting. They're more likely to hurt themselves than anything else. The military would have their hands full defending critical areas of the City and dealing with any intruders. Unfortunately, in this particular place, most of the people can be replaced, but the equipment can't. Usually it's the other way around."

"You've thought about this before," Elizabeth sat back in her chair to look up at D.

"Yes, ma'am," D leaned back against Elizabeth's desk, "I've spent a lot of time considering millions of scenarios involving Atlantis and the personnel here. Part of the reason I was so good at what I did before was because I think differently than the normal person. When I calculate something, I take into account factors that most people wouldn't even think to consider. I always have at least a dozen contingency plans in place for each part of my plans. The future of Atlantis is no different."

"So what would you suggest then?" Elizabeth asked curiously, "To improve things here in the City."

"Make weapons training mandatory for _everyone_ stationed in Atlantis," D answered automatically, "As well as at least two forms of self-defense. Regularly scheduled war games involving all personnel, not just the military, both within the City and at a suitable Alpha site, using live ammunition at the Alpha site as much as possible. The armory needs to be tripled in size, minimum. There should be at least one handgun for every person stationed here and enough ammunition for each gun to take down a Wraith. There needs to be an increase in heavy weaponry and explosives of at least four hundred percent, especially since it takes so much effort to take down even one Wraith, much less a dart or a hive ship. The military personnel rotated here from the SGC need to receive additional training, ideally from someone like Specialist Dex, on how to effectively deal with the Wraith before they are allowed to step through the gate. The same goes for civilian training. Many of them still balk at carrying a nine millimeter for self-defense. There are only three companies of military personnel stationed here at any one time and a lot of them are concentrated specialties. Ideally, there should be an entire division, but we could make it work with a single, full battalion, leaving the three companies we have as they are now and adding two additional companies of infantry troops. There are people here who are irreplaceable, both civilian and military, which is a huge problem in a war-zone. Take out a few key personnel and you cripple the City's ability to function. Everyone should be cross-trained in as many disciplines as they can handle, especially the civilians. We're still too heavily dependent on Earth for mission critical inventory. We need to find a way to either manufacture or trade for important items so if we were to be suddenly cut-off from Earth, especially since they're now embroiled in a war with the Ori, the impact wouldn't cripple the City. I'm not talking about militarizing the expedition, just acknowledging the fact that we are in a warzone and need to act accordingly."

"Why haven't you brought this up before," Elizabeth crossed her arms across her chest, "either with me or Colonel Sheppard?"

"You've never asked before," D shrugged, "and it's not my place to bring something like this up with the military command."

"How much of that is actually necessary and how much is you being overly cautious?" Elizabeth questioned.

"Most of it is necessary," D answered thoughtfully, "The cross-training should've been implemented the day after the expedition set foot in Atlantis. It doesn't cost any tangible resources, so it could start at any time. It really comes done to a matter of budget and whether the IOA will agree to all of it. With the right people in the right positions telling the IOA that it's essential to the continued success of the Atlantis expedition, we could probably get at least seventy-five percent of it accomplished within the next six months, the rest of it in the next year or so."

"All right," Elizabeth leaned forward and tapped her fingers on her desk, "Write it your proposal and schedule a special meeting with the senior staff to discuss it. What's on the last tablet?"

"A report from the geology department," D tilted her head to the side and thrust the tablet at Elizabeth, "They think the Pulooy planet has naquadah deposits. They want to send a team to check it out. Ma'am, what do you mean write up a proposal and schedule a meeting?"

"All your suggestions," Elizabeth accepted the tablet, "I'm sure you've come up with a way to accomplish most of them. Write it all out in a report so we can discuss it among the senior staff."

"But…" D ducked her head, "Isn't that over-stepping my bounds, ma'am? I don't want to offend anyone involved or make them think I know their jobs better than they do. They are only ideas and theories. I was only thinking out-loud."

"Why did you put so much thought into it?" Elizabeth asked carefully.

"Because this is the longest I've ever been in one place," D straightened the cuff of her uniform over the edge of the bandage on her hand, "and I guess I kind of like it here. I'd like Atlantis to be protected as best she can be."

"Write up the report, D," Elizabeth smiled, "I'll deal with the consequences if there are any hurt feelings because of it."

"Yes, ma'am," D nodded once, "Should I speak with Major Lorne about scheduling a geological survey on M59-693?"

"Please do," Elizabeth scrolled through the tablet, "As soon as there's an available spot in the schedule. Tell them survey _only_ until I get a chance to speak with Matriarch Otelia about this."


	29. Time

When John came into the briefing room behind Teyla, he heard a loud, mostly one-sided argument going on between Rodney and D. Rodney's face was flushed pink and D wore the half-annoyed, half-amused smirk she often adopted in Rodney's presence. Elizabeth was reading quietly from a tablet in front of her, completely ignoring Rodney's angry ranting, and Ronon was cleaning his nails with one of his ever-present knives, occasionally grinning at D's quick retorts.

"How long have they been arguing?" John asked quietly as he slid into the seat next to Elizabeth.

"Rodney showed up in my office half an hour ago," Elizabeth looked up from the tablet to sigh at the two of them, "I had to kick them out after two minutes. I think they've been in here ever since."

"The matter must be of great importance," Teyla arched an eyebrow as a string of foreign language that was clearly cursing left D's mouth, "for them to still be discussing it so…colorfully."

"Truthfully," Elizabeth smiled wryly, "I quit paying attention once they left my office. If it's something important, I'm sure one of them will let me know."

"Any idea on how to make them stop?" John drawled, "This is supposed to be a mission briefing."

"I would suggest a bucket of ice water but I'm not entirely sure it would work," Elizabeth barely refrained from rolling her eyes, "and someone would have to clean it up afterwards. Dr. Vaughn."

"Yes, ma'am?" D turned immediately to Elizabeth.

"Teyla would like to know what the two of you are arguing about," Elizabeth glanced over to John, "and the Colonel would like to know how to make you stop arguing."

"We're not arguing. We're having a discussion," Rodney insisted with a glare at D, "I came to Dr. Vaughn with a perfectly reasonable request and she's being completely irrational."

"Dr. McKay seems to be under the impression that I work for him in some manner," D's smile sharpened, "and that I am willing to take orders from him. I was reminding him that this is not the case and I am under no obligation whatsoever to do anything I do not wish to do for him."

"But Colonel Messy-Hair over there is too busy," Rodney flapped a hand in John's direction, "and Carson will have no idea what I need him to do _and_ he's still terrified of the thing. I can't do it myself and monitor at the same time. Therefore, you are the next logical choice. I've seen the list of gene-users, Red. Your name is pretty close to the top."

'Colonel Messy-Hair?' John mouthed the words to himself and Elizabeth ducked her head with a grin.

"Why is it that you accept Sheppard's word that he's busy," D leaned back in her chair, "but not mine? I have a very full schedule, Rodney."

"This is more important than meetings and paperwork, Red," Rodney sat forward on the edge of his chair, "You know it is, so why are you arguing with me instead of just doing what I asked?"

"You didn't _ask_," D crossed her hands across her lap, "You barged in and _demanded_. I take orders from exactly two people, Dr. McKay; you are neither of them."

"I-_what_?" Rodney gaped.

"Ask me nicely, Rodney," D spoke sweetly, "Say please."

Ronon snorted a laugh as Rodney's mouth opened and closed several times.

"_You_ are the most," Rodney shook a finger at D, "_annoying_ person in two different galaxies."

"I'm pretty sure that wasn't asking nicely, Rodney," John smirked.

"I have to agree with the Colonel on this one," D flashed John a quick grin, "I definitely didn't hear a please anywhere in there."

"Elizabeth," Rodney gave her a pleading look.

"Don't look at me," Elizabeth held up her hands, "If you want Dr. Vaughn to do something beyond her normal duties, that's entirely between the two of you."

"I have found that asking politely will go a long way to getting what you desire," Teyla added.

Rodney clenched his jaw and looked back to D, "Dr. Vaughn, would you _please_ find time in your busy schedule to come to the chair room to help me reroute the power distribution so we can streamline our power consumption in the City so we don't waste power from the one precious ZedPM we have?"

"I'd be happy to help you, Dr. McKay," D nodded and sat forward again, "I've already cleared a six hour block in my schedule four days from now, when you've returned from your mission and Carson clears me for full duty."

"Why did you waste half an hour arguing with me and make me ask nicely," Rodney flushed again, "if you were planning on doing it anyway?"

"Because while good manners are important," D gave him a stern look, "I draw the line at neglecting the City to teach you a lesson. I hope you'll remember this exchange next time you want something from me."

"You-you…" Rodney spluttered.

"Give it up, McKay," Ronon slapped a heavy hand on Rodney's shoulder, "She won this round."

"I believe we have a mission briefing now," Teyla moved the tablet waiting on the table closer to her.

"Planetary report is in front of you," Elizabeth gestured to the tablets around the table, "One thing before we get started; you'll notice there that an extra senior staff meeting has been added to your schedules two weeks from now. The meeting is mandatory and the amount of time scheduled is not a mistake."

"An entire day was blocked off," Rodney frowned, "I have important projects I need to be working on. I don't have an entire day to spend in a meeting."

"Mandatory means you are required to attend," Elizabeth reminded him, "Tomorrow afternoon, each of the senior staff will receive an email with a rather large attached report that will be the topic of discussion for the meeting. Because of the size of the report, Dr. Vaughn has highlighted the individual sections that will be applicable to each of you. While you're not required to read the entire report, I do expect you to read those highlighted sections and be able to discuss them intelligently during the meeting. Feel free to consult any of your staff for suggestions and clarifications, but the meeting is only for senior members of the expedition."

"What's this meeting all about?" John drawled, "Sounds pretty important."

"Acknowledgment of our current situation," Elizabeth glanced over to D, who ducked her head to study her tablet, "and planning for Atlantis' future."

"What did you do now, Red?" Rodney sighed heavily.

D winced as she answered uncertainly, "Apparently, I think too much."

_*AM*AM*AM*AM*AM*AM*AM*_

Elizabeth listened as Rodney's agitated voice spoke over the radio, trying to understand the techno-babble that was spilling rapidly from his mouth.

"_Rodney_," Elizabeth interrupted, "Slow down. I can't follow what you're saying."

"_We don't have time to slow down_," Rodney insisted, "_Sheppard is stuck in a time-dilation field on the planet. For every second we waste talking about this, hours could be going by for him_."

"All right," Elizabeth acquiesced, "Tell us what you need."

"_Red, you there_?" Rodney questioned.

"I'm here," D answered quickly, "Supplies?"

"_Yes_," Rodney agreed, "_Several weeks' worth at least. And the engineers_-"

"They'll meet you in the jumper bay," D nodded, "You have an idea yet?"

"_Not really_," Rodney admitted, "_See if they can come up with something_. _Make them earn the paychecks for once_."

"I'll let them know," D shook her head, "What else do you need?"

"_Med team_. _Sheppard might be injured_," Rodney commanded, "_There's Ancient writing by the portal he went through. Need someone to translate._"

"Dr. Weir?" D turned to her.

"We'll go," Elizabeth decided, "You and I are probably best equipped to translate anything we find."

"Yes, ma'am," D inclined her head and turned to Chuck, "Sergeant, patch my radio through to the Quartermaster, all his on-duty staff, and all ready-room personnel."

"Yes, ma'am," Chuck started tapping keys, "I'll notify all on-duty engineering staff to report to the jumper bay immediately."

"And Dr. Beckett as well," Elizabeth ordered, "Rodney, you can fill Carson and me in when you get here."

"_Two minutes_," Rodney informed them.

Elizabeth heard Chuck begin paging people to the jumper bay and turned towards the stairs to see D giving quiet, efficient orders as she waited. Elizabeth made her way up the stairs, D following a step behind as she gave continued to give commands. They made their way to the jumper bay where several engineers were already waiting and men in uniform were forming a chain to pass supplies into a neat pile next to a jumper.

"Let me know when that's done, Lieutenant," D tapped off her radio as she and Elizabeth came up to a slightly out of breath Zelenka.

"What's going on?" Zelenka straightened his glasses, "Chuck said it was an emergency."

"We're a little light on details until McKay gets back," Elizabeth replied calmly, "But from what we understand, Colonel Sheppard has been trapped inside a time dilation field on the planet."

Zelenka narrowed his eyes, "Faster or slower?"

"Faster," Elizabeth answered, "At least, that's the assumption we're working under right now."

"Does Rodney know the ratio?" Zelenka scowled.

"McKay didn't take the time to determine it before he came back," D shook her head, "But he's in a hurry, so we can assume that the ratio is pretty high."

"What does he want us to do?" Zelenka questioned.

"We need a way to-" D was cut-off by the jumper floor opening and a jumper rising into the bay, "Never mind, McKay can tell you himself."

"I'm here," Carson came rushing into the bay, "What's going on?"

"Colonel Sheppard got himself stuck in a time-dilation field," D informed him as the jumper's hatch opened, "Dr. McKay was just about to fill us in."

"Zelenka," Rodney stomped out of the jumper already clicking his fingers rapidly, "We need a way to get readings from inside the time-dilation field without getting torn apart by the event horizon. There has to be a power source for a field that size. Figure out a way to locate and disable it. You have the amount of time it will take Red to finish packing the jumper."

"Ten minutes, Dr. Zelenka," D glanced over to the uniformed men already packing supplies into a second jumper, "I'll have the men ready to assist you with whatever you need as soon as they finish."

"Yes, yes, of course," Zelenka turned back to the gathered group of engineers, "We will find a way."

"Dr. Beckett," D turned to him, "You need to clear me for full duty effective immediately. I'll be accompanying Dr. Weir to the planet."

"But you're not fully-" Carson started.

"We don't have time to argue, Carson," Rodney interrupted, "Elizabeth is the closest thing we have to an expert in Ancient language in this galaxy and I need her to translate the writing. Red is freaky smart and might be able to find something someone missed. We need them."

"I can handle it, Carson," D assured him, "I've done more with worse."

"That's not the point, lass," Carson scowled, "But I won't argue this time. You're cleared to go off-world."

"Let's go," Rodney started walking quickly towards the door, "I'll explain the rest on the way."

"Leave your radio open so I can listen," D called after him, "I'll meet you back here in ten minutes. All the equipment and supplies you'll need will be packed, so only worry about your personal items. I'll keep you informed on the progress here, Dr. Weir."

"Thanks," Elizabeth looked over her shoulder as she followed Rodney and Carson out of the bay.

_*AM*AM*AM*AM*AM*AM*AM*_

"Okay, I think we've got it," Elizabeth turned away from the stone inscription, "I am interpreting a bit, but it seems the field was designed as a sanctuary from the Wraith, a place the last of the Ancients could travel to and hopefully ascend without fear of attack."

"Oh, of course," Rodney agreed, "They could potentially spend entire lifetimes inside the field before the Wraith even discovered the place."

"And if they ever attacked," Carson nodded, "their ships would get torn apart just as the probe did."

"And so it has remained for ten thousand years," Teyla finished.

"This place wasn't just meant for Ancients," D ran her fingers over the stone, "but for anyone seeking sanctuary to follow the path to ascension. This inscription serves as a welcome as well as a warning."

"What's the warning?" Ronon questioned.

D turned away from the stone wall to join the rest of the group by Elizabeth's side.

"It warns that once you cross the threshold," Elizabeth said evenly, "there is no return."

"That is," Rodney smiled smugly, "unless you have the exact location of the power source and the expertise to turn it off. We may even get a ZedPM out of this."

Elizabeth tapped her radio, "Lieutenant, if you haven't heard from us in…Rodney?"

"Well, an hour would give us months in there, but, Elizabeth, of all the people who should stay," Rodney looked over to her, "it would be you."

"There may be writing be the power source that needs translating," Elizabeth pointed out.

"Red can translate it," Rodney flapped a hand in her direction.

"Dr. Weir is going, McKay," D shouldered her large pack, "Arguing wastes time."

"Lieutenant, one hour," Elizabeth looked at D curiously, "Then head back to Atlantis and see if Zelenka can think of anything."

"_Understood_, _ma'am_," the Lieutenant responded.

Carson looked around nervously from the log he was sitting on, "Well, he may need medical treatment and I'm the only doctor here, so I should probably just-"

"Carson," Rodney huffed, "it probably won't hurt so much if you just go through quickly."

"All right," Elizabeth let D help her into the straps of her pack, "Let's do this. Who's going first?"

"I'll go," Rodney volunteered, "It's sort of my fault we're in the mess, so I suppose it's only fair."

"I'll follow McKay," D looked over to Ronon then glanced back to Elizabeth, "Specialist?"

Ronon nodded, "I'll go last, make sure everyone gets through."

"Okay," Rodney shifted his bag uncertainly, "Here we go, I guess."

"Rodney," D put a hand on his shoulder and walked him towards the portal, "We don't have time to waste, remember?"

"I know. Give it a three count, then step through," Rodney scrunched his eyes up and stepped through the opening.


	30. Weapons

Elizabeth slowed her pace slightly as she half-listened to Rodney and Carson's conversation, falling back from the group as they made their way across the open field. D adjusted her stride to fall into step beside Elizabeth, looking over to her with concern.

"Did you want me to carry your pack for a while, ma'am?" D asked softly.

"No, I'm fine," Elizabeth shook her head, "I was just thinking."

"I'm sure the Colonel is fine, ma'am," D glanced sideways at Elizabeth, "It seems he has a knack for surviving improbable situations."

"Thanks," Elizabeth smiled, "But that's actually not what I was thinking about this time."

"Ma'am?" D wondered.

"I was expecting you to protest me going through the barrier," Elizabeth answered honestly.

"This place has stood against the Wraith for over ten thousand years," D replied easily, "I'm supposed to protect you to the best of my abilities. This sanctuary is probably one of the safest places for you to be in the entire universe. If Atlantis didn't need you as leader and I thought you'd actually agree, I'd ask you to stay here."

"I'm not sure Atlantis _needs_ me," Elizabeth laughed quietly, "There are plenty of people who could do what I do."

"That's not entirely true though," D argued, "There are people that could do what you do, yes, but almost anyone else would think of Atlantis as just another job. Another posting until they go somewhere else. They wouldn't do your job _nearly_ as well as you do. Atlantis is more than a job to you. It's…"

"Home," Elizabeth smiled softly.

"Exactly," D nodded, "Atlantis is home for you now. That feeling influences every other decision you make, both good and bad. How else do you explain a person who has advocated against weapons proliferation her entire life, a known pacifist, agreeing to have a meeting about living in a warzone? You realize that the City and the people who consider her home have to be protected. You know when to adapt, when to change, and when to hold firm. You're compassionate when it's necessary and unyielding when the situation calls for it. You listen to the people around you with when the situation calls for it, but you don't let them dictate all your decisions. That's what makes you such a good leader and why so many people are drawn to follow you. That's exactly the kind of leader the City needs. Atlantis will thrive for many years under your leadership, Elizabeth," D paused and scrunched up her nose slightly, "That is, assuming Rodney wasn't exaggerating about being able to disable the power source in here and assuming the Wraith don't eat us all first and assuming I don't fail miserably at my job of keeping you safe and assuming-"

"I get it, D. Thanks," Elizabeth rolled her eyes, "I think all that calculating of scenarios as made you into a pessimist."

"I'd consider myself a realist, ma'am," D shrugged, "Life is messy and things rarely go as expected. That's why back-up plans exist."

"So what's the back-up plan if we get stuck in this place?" Elizabeth asked curiously.

"Teyla will teach us how to farm," D gestured with her free hand, "Ronon will teach us how to hunt, Carson will teach us about alternative medicines, Rodney will figure out how to engineer running water and other such luxuries, and you'll teach us how to meditate so when we die we can ascend. We'll survive here."

"And you?" Elizabeth wondered.

"_Je vais apprendre à être un humain normal à la place d'une arme_," D whispered. [French: I learn to be a normal human instead of a weapon.]

"D," Elizabeth spoke sadly, "You're not-"

"You know, I was just thinking," Rodney raised his voice, "this entire field – I mean, not the field, I mean the _field_ field – must generate its own day and night cycle, not to mention its own artificial climate. I mean, it's incredible. When you think-"

"You wanna pick up the pace, McKay?" Ronon interrupted.

"Hey, he's waited for months," Rodney waved a dismissive hand, "Another half hour isn't gonna kill him."

"We don't know how long it's going to take to find him," Elizabeth pointed out as she quickened her pace to catch up to the group again.

"Aye," Carson agreed, "and besides that, I have a date planned with Lieutenant Cadman for tomorrow night."

"Oh, no," Rodney's voice was heavy with sarcasm, "so we've only got twelve years in here!"

Teyla set down the case she had been carrying and held up a fist as she looked towards the woods in front of them. Everyone stopped behind her, setting down their own cases and Ronon moved closer.

"What?" Rodney asked warily, "What is it?"

An animalistic roar came from the woods and Teyla aimed her P90 at the trees. Ronon pulled his blaster out as D unclipped her pack, dropping it to the ground to raise her own P90 and step in front of Elizabeth. Rodney immediately pulled out the LSD from his vest pocket, studying the screen carefully.

"I'm not detecting anything," Rodney shoved the LSD back in his pocket.

"Doesn't mean it isn't there," Ronon moved closer to Teyla, "Can you see anything?"

"No," a look of concentration came over Teyla's face, "But I sense something is close."

"There's nothing," D scanned the trees slowly, "No unnatural movement. I don't understand."

"Maybe we should try another way," Elizabeth looked around the field.

They heard the roar again, this time louder and closer. Rodney and Carson both slipped their sidearms out of their holsters, moving to either side of Elizabeth.

"Won't make any difference," Ronon narrowed his eyes, "It's stalking us."

Another loud roar from a different direction made Carson look around nervously, "Sounds like more than one."

"Yeah," Rodney aimed his gun towards the woods, "More than one what?"

"I do not know," Teyla answered evenly.

The air shimmered in front of Teyla, reforming into a transparent beast twice her height as it roared. Ronon fired several blasts into the beast before it knocked him away, the blaster falling from his hand as he flew through the air. Teyla took a step back, D a step forward, and began firing into what should have been the creature's body, joined quickly by Carson and Rodney. The bullets passed through harmlessly as the beast roared again. Teyla risked glancing at Ronon and saw him get to his feet, drawing his sword from the scabbard at his back. As he moved forward, they stopped firing. Ronon slashed at the beast, but just like the bullets, his sword passed through harmlessly. The beast tossed him to the side again, roaring even louder. Teyla pulled a knife from her vest, lunging towards the creature only to be tossed to the side like Ronon. D stepped in front of Elizabeth again, quickly pulling the gun from the holster at her thigh and flicking the safety off as she held it behind her. Elizabeth took the gun from D's hand, raising it to aim over D's shoulder as the creature roared and started to move forward.

John came running from the woods, leaping onto the creature's back with a tight grip on his knife. The beast dissipated underneath him and John fell to the ground. Elizabeth shoved past D to go to John and Carson hurried over to Ronon, picking up the man's sword and sticking the point in the ground before offering the man a hand to help him up. D held one hand out to help Teyla to her feet, but kept the other firmly on her P90, black gaze scanning the trees once more.

"What the hell took you so long?" John exclaimed angrily as Elizabeth helped him up.

"Believe it or not," Elizabeth replied calmly, "you were only gone a couple of hours."

"Try six months!" John argued.

"You don't understand," Rodney stepped forward, "You've been trapped in a time dilation field."

"What?" John questioned.

"What was that bloody thing?" Carson asked anxiously.

"I don't know," John looked from Carson back to Rodney, "What's a time dilation field?"

"We need to get to a more defensible position before we start talking about the finer points of temporal mechanics," D's voice was eerily calm, "Ma'am, my sidearm please. Let's move."

Elizabeth nodded once, flicking the safety back on the gun before handing it back to D, who slipped it silently back into her holster.

"No," Teyla looked up at the sky, "It is still close."

A loud roar came from the open field behind them and everyone turned to face the noise. The beast was in the middle of the field and it had grown in size, now towering high above them as it roared louder.

John immediately stepped forward, knife held tightly in front of him, and Ronon pulled his sword from the ground as he went to stand next to John. Teyla moved forward cautiously, Rodney following slowly behind her. Carson moved closer to Elizabeth as D reached over and grabbed Rodney's vest, pulling him back towards Carson.

"McKay, Beckett, figure out what this is and how I can kill it," D whispered the order harshly, "Ma'am, when I tell you to run, head for the caves. Don't look back."

"You've fought this thing before?" Ronon glanced sideways at John.

"Twice," John nodded.

"How did you beat it?" Ronon questioned.

"Still haven't figure that out," John admitted.

"Now would be a good time," Ronon focused on the roaring beast.

"Yeah, well," John took another small step forward, "what'd you say we just fight it and see what happens?"

"_Malum consilium_," D swore under her breath as she moved to Ronon's other side, "_Fatuus_." [Latin: Bad plan.] [Latin: Idiot.]

"John?" Elizabeth asked cautiously, "Friends of yours?"

D drew her sidearm, shifting her stance to keep the P90 pointed at the towering beast as she aimed the smaller gun at the group of people emerging from the woods. She flicked the safety off as one of the men came to stand by John, but kept her finger against the barrel.

"We've come to stand with you," Avrid kept his eyes on the beast, "whatever happens."

"No," Teer came to join him at John's side, "We have come to fight," Teer looked up to the beast, "And we are not afraid of you. The Beast is of our own creation and it is long past time we sent it away."

Everyone except D lowered their weapons as the villagers moved past them to surround the beast. D merely let the P90 fall loose against her chest and switched to a two-handed grip on the smaller gun.

The beast continued to roar loudly as the villagers stared up at it. The beast threw its arms in the air and screamed a final time before it dissipated. Teer turned to John with a soft smile, Avrid and Hedda joining her as they moved silently back to him.

"That's it?" John asked incredulously, "That's all it took?"

"You were right, John," Teer spoke softly, "We were afraid. The Beast was the final burden we had to shed, manifest from our own fears. You gave us the courage to face it."

As the villagers behind the three of them began to glow soft white light, Teer shifted her gaze to D, who was still aiming the gun steadily towards her.

"You should not be here," Teer said curiously, "I could not see you before."

"I get that a lot," D's voice was flat.

"The weapon is not necessary, _Angelus Mortis_," Teer assured her, "I mean your Mistress no harm." [Latin: Angel of Death.]

"Your presence is unwelcome, _Virginis_," D growled lowly, moving her finger to rest against the trigger, "You can see what I did to the others. Leave or I swear to everything you find holy, I will empty this fucking clip into your head." [Latin: Virgin.]

"D," Elizabeth ordered, "Stand down."

"Get. OUT. _NOW_!" D demanded savagely, her hoarse voice breaking on the last word.

"I am sorry for your pain, _Angelus_, and I apologize for my intrusion," Teer turned back to John and held out her hand, "Come with us."

"I'm not ready for that yet," John said calmly, "I'm not sure I'll ever be."

Avrid and Hedda began to glow as the villagers behind them glowed brighter and began floating up into the air.

"One day, perhaps?" Teer lowered her hand.

"Yeah," John replied uncertainly, "One day."

"I'll look forward to it. There'll be no need to destroy the Sanctuary, Dr. McKay," Teer turned to face him.

"What? No-no-no-no-no," Rodney spluttered, "I wasn't thinking that, I was-"

"We will keep the portal open for you until you are gone," Teer interrupted.

"At which point the ZedPM which undoubtedly powers this beautiful place will be-" Rodney started again.

"Sanctuary was left by those who came before us, for those who may seek it out and follow the path," Teer spoke firmly, "And it will continue to remain after you are gone."

"Yeah, but…" Rodney trailed off, looking to Elizabeth. She shook her head slightly and Rodney turned back to Teer with a frustrated huff, "Absolutely."

Teer looked back to John once more, a soft smile on her face as she began to glow like the others. She followed the light that was Avrid and Hedda before the three of them disappeared into the air.

"What is it with you and Ascended women?" Rodney moved up by John and pointed towards where Teer had been standing.

John only gave a half-hearted shrug in response.

Ronon moved over to D and put a firm hand over the sleeve on her wrist, pushing her arms firmly down so the gun she still held in a white-knuckled grip was pointing at the ground before letting go.

"_Domina_," D sucked in a deep breath, "_Aufer meam sclopeta_." [Latin: Master] [Latin: Take away my guns.]

"All right," Elizabeth moved forward slowly, holding out her hand, "Disarm, Dr. Vaughn."

D ejected the magazine from the gun, letting it fall to the ground before she pulled the slide back, letting the chambered round drop next to the clip in the grass. She carefully placed the gun in Elizabeth's hand before she raised her arms to interlock her fingers behind her head.

"Ronon, take the P90," Elizabeth ordered quietly, "and any other guns or ammunition you can find."

D held perfectly still while Ronon unclipped her gun, handing it to John behind him before he bent to undo the holster on her thigh. He let the holster fall to the ground before he began his efficient search of D's vest. When he dropped the last clip to the ground he looked over to Elizabeth, ignoring D completely.

"The other weapons, ma'am?" Ronon asked calmly.

"No," Elizabeth shook her head, "Leave the rest."

Ronon stepped back and D lowered her hands to her sides, turning on her heel to walk back to their forgotten supplies. She hefted her pack up, clipping it in place quickly before picking up as many of the cases as she could fit in her arms.

"I will meet you at the portal, _Domina_," D set a brisk pace across the field.

"What's with her?" Rodney wondered.

"Not your business," Ronon began to collect the things from the ground.

"Does _Virginis_ mean what I think it means?" John asked warily.

"It's a somewhat crude way of saying 'virgin'," Elizabeth raised an eyebrow.

John cleared his throat, "Right."

"Well," Elizabeth handed the gun she held to Ronon as he moved past her, "The beard is interesting."

"First thing to go when we get home," John assured her, "Never thought I'd see any of you again. Kind of even…missed you a little."

"Yeah, well," Ronon shoved the clips into one of the packs D had left on the ground, "It was only a couple hours for us so…"

"Ronon," Teyla chastised, reaching out to touch John's arm, "We were all quite worried about you."

"Of course we were," Carson nodded his agreement.

"We're just sorry we didn't get here sooner," Elizabeth smiled warmly.

John looked around at the group as a grin spread across his face, "Let's get out of here."


	31. Help

After D snapped at the third nurse that came near her, sending the woman scurrying away, Ronon moved over next to Elizabeth.

"She needs to be somewhere else," Ronon said quietly, "Let me take her."

"Post mission physicals are protocol. Dr. Vaughn knows that better than anyone," Elizabeth looked up at Ronon, "and I don't think that you're the best option to be around her right now, Ronon."

"She's going to hurt someone if you make her stay," Ronon crossed his arms across his chest, "D sees me as an equal. She knows I'm not a threat to her. She won't hurt me…much. I can help her."

Elizabeth frowned and looked back to D. The red-haired woman stood rigidly straight, her back pressed against the closest wall, black irises that had yet to fade back to their normal pale gray darting around the room tracking everyone's movements. Every time someone on the medical staff got too close, even Carson, her hand drifted down to her waist, clenching and unclenching rapidly until the person moved away.

"Fine, take her somewhere else," Elizabeth decided finally, "But I'm sending someone to get the both of you in two hours."

"We'll be in the gym," Ronon nodded and moved away.

He walked over to where D and seized her by the wrist, pulling her away from the wall. She snarled up at him and twisted her arm out of his grip. He grabbed the back of her neck tightly and marched her towards the door, his scowl clearing the path in front of them.

"Wait a minute," Carson protested as he rushed over to Elizabeth, "Where are they going? Dr. Vaughn hasn't been checked out yet."

"Did you see her?" Elizabeth asked softly, "If we'd made her stay, she likely would have hurt someone."

"What do you think they're going to do?" Carson scowled, "They're going to go beat on each other until one of them is bleeding or worse. Her hand hasn't fully healed yet. She shouldn't be-"

"Dr. Beckett," Elizabeth interrupted, "She almost shot an ascended being an hour ago. Teer looked into her mind and brought everything she's tried so hard to ignore up to the surface. She _told me_ to take her guns away on the planet and the _only_ reason she would have done that off-world if she was concerned she was going to hurt one of us. Every time someone gets close to her in here, her hand starts twitching for one of the knives I know for a fact she is still wearing."

"Good lord, Elizabeth," Carson exhaled sharply, "Are you sure sending her with Ronon was wise? If Teer triggered…certain memories in her, D may very well kill him."

"Ronon seems sure that he can handle her," Elizabeth said tightly, "And I don't know what else to do for her, Carson. I told Ronon he had two hours before someone was coming to get them. I have a feeling it would be best if it was you and me."

"Aye," Carson scoffed, "Along with a full medical team with a couple of stretchers. And a bloody security team armed with stunners."

"How about Marie and Teyla," Elizabeth suggested evenly, "with their stern looks instead?"

"I suppose that will have to do," Carson sighed wearily, "I'll let Marie know."

_*AM*AM*AM*AM*AM*AM*AM*_

"Come on, Doc," John whined, "I've been here for hours. I need a real shower."

"Sorry, Colonel," Biro chirped happily, "Dr. Beckett gave strict orders that you weren't allowed to leave until he was allowed to review your tests personally. You spent a good deal of time inside a time dilation field and we need to make sure it didn't have any adverse effects."

"How many more tests can there possibly be to run?" John questioned, "I've been poked and prodded within an inch of my life."

"The tests are completed, Colonel," Biro informed him, "We're just waiting on Dr. Beckett to review them."

"Where is Carson then?" John asked patiently.

"Dr. Beckett had a small medical emergency he had to take care of. He'll be back shortly," Biro patted John's arm, "Just sit back and relax, Colonel. Would you like me to get you something to nibble on while you're waiting?"

"Sure," John smiled falsely, "Why not?"

"I'll bring you some jello," Biro smile brightly over her shoulder as she left.

John let his head drop back onto the pillow and sighed heavily. He closed his eyes and crossed his hands across his chest, counting out prime numbers in his head to pass the time. He barely made it to quadruple digits when he heard a commotion in the hallway. He opened his eyes and turned his head just in time to see Ronon come limping in, supported on either side by Carson and Marie. Ronon's long-sleeved tunic was drenched in sweat and spotted in various places with blood, but none of it appeared to be his. Ronon was being careful about putting weight on his left leg so John got out of bed and hurried over to them, taking a grateful Marie's place.

"What the hell happened to you?" John questioned, "You look like you got the crap kicked out of you."

"Helped," Ronon grunted as Carson and John got him situated on a bed.

"Helped, my arse," Carson scowled furiously as he tugged at the bottom of Ronon's sweat-soaked tunic, "Bloody barbaric version of helping if you ask me."

"You don't understand," Ronon winced as he pulled the shirt over his head, dropping it onto the ground.

"You're damn right, I don't understand," Carson swore harshly at the peppering of bruises across Ronon's chest, "How's beating the holy hell out of someone helping them in any manner?"

"You're a healer," Ronon laid down on the bed, "Not a warrior."

"Dr. Beckett?" Marie spoke from behind him, pointing towards the entrance when Carson turned towards her.

Teyla was supporting D with a strong arm around her waist, hand gripping the back of pants tightly to keep her upright with D's arm slung over her shoulders. Elizabeth was on the other side, one hand guiding a semi-conscious D by a gentle grip on her wrist, the other holding a bundle of clothing and a black nylon belt with a small flat holster attached to it. D's head lolled to the side, her eyes heavy-lidded and blood oozing slowly from a split in her bottom lip. The plain black sports bra she wore exposed the scrapes and bruises covering her chest and arms, the deep black-purple mass partially covering her right ribs causing ragged, short breathing. John moved to help, but Carson caught him by the elbow and shook his head firmly.

"Who else is on duty tonight, Marie?" Carson asked quietly.

"Ambrose, Biro, and Cole," Marie answered as Teyla and Elizabeth settled D onto a gurney across the room, "I can take care of everything except setting the broken bones, Doctor."

"D will eat Ambrose and Biro alive, even like this. Get Cole to set her hand and check her ribs," Carson ordered easily, "If she starts causing problems, don't be stingy with the morphine, but no sedation of any kind. She's an incredibly high tolerance for any type of drug. If you need help, get-"

"One of the female staff that won't break into tears the first time Dr. Vaughn gets annoyed," Marie nodded once as she turned to leave, "I'll deal with her, Carson."

"You can go over," Carson released John's arm and started towards a supply shelf, "but don't touch Dr. Vaughn. I'm not cleaning up any more blood on my floors."

John narrowed his eyes as he turned back to Ronon, "Why are the two of you beat to all hell?"

"I was helping her," Ronon glanced over to D.

"Helping her what?" John questioned, "Because you can barely walk and Vaughn's half-conscious with what looks like broken ribs."

"Not broken. Only cracked," Ronon shook his head and looked up at John, "Did break a couple fingers in her right hand though. My ankle's twisted a little. It'll be fine tomorrow."

"You didn't answer my question," John crossed his arms across his chest.

"It's not your concern, Sheppard," Ronon insisted, "I took care of it."

"It is my concern if a member of _my team_," John argued, "ends up in the infirmary and won't explain why."

"Not my story," Ronon responded as Carson came back over with an armful of supplies, "and not my secrets."

"Fine," John dropped his arms back to his sides and walked resolutely over to where Elizabeth and Teyla where standing.

"You are still here, John?" Teyla asked curiously, "I thought you would have left by now."

"Docs won't let me leave until Carson goes over my test results personally," John answered evenly, flicking his glance down to where D was looking up at him with wide gray eyes and slow, heavy blinks, "Which looks like it's going to take a while now."

"I see," Teyla looked between John and Elizabeth, "I believe I will go see how Ronon is doing."

"Thanks for your help, Teyla," Elizabeth smiled briefly at the other woman as she left.

"He's mad at me, 'Lizbeth," D spoke quietly, "'cause I hurt Ronon."

"John's not mad at you, D," Elizabeth gently squeezed D's wrist where she still held it.

"Is," D's lower lip trembled faintly, "That's his 'I'm mad but I don't want anyone to know' face."

"D, look at me," Elizabeth commanded softly.

D shifted her gaze to Elizabeth.

"Even if he is mad at you," Elizabeth brushed her thumb over the skin of D's arm, "He's not going to hurt you. He's not a threat, remember?"

"Still mad," D swiped her tongue across her lower lip and winced when she brushed over the cut, "That bitch wanted to fuck him, you know. Kissed him and everything. But he said no. Six months."

"I didn't know that," Elizabeth said evenly.

"How did _you_ know that?" John questioned, the tips of his ears flushing pink.

"Once you open a door, you can walk through from either side," D sniffed, "People forget that. Did some poking around of my own while she was…while she…she saw…" D trailed off, sucking in a quick, pained breath and trying to sit up, "I need to go."

"No," Elizabeth dropped the clothing she was still holding to the floor with a quiet thump. She put a hand on D's shoulder and pushed her lightly so she fell back on the bed.

"I don't wanna to be here, Elizabeth," D pleaded softly, "_Ce n'est pas en sécurité ici_." [French: It's not safe here.]

"You're hurt," Elizabeth reminded her, "You've got cracked ribs and broken fingers, among other things. After they're taken care of, Teyla's going to take you back to your room so you can rest."

"Don't wanna rest," D shook her head, "_Si avertam oculos meos videbo ultra faciebus eorum_." [Latin: If I close my eyes, I will see their faces again.]

"I know," Elizabeth started stroking her thumb over D's arm again.

"All of them," D bit into her bottom lip and more blood started trickling down the side of her chin, "_Kazhdaya detal' sozhgli v moy mozg._" [Russian: Every detail burned into my brain.]

"_Vy zdes' so mnoy seychas_," Elizabeth said firmly, "_YA nikomu ne pozvolyu tebe bol'no_." [Russian: You are here with me now.] [Russian: I won't let anyone hurt you.]

"That's not how it works, 'Lizbeth," D scowled at Elizabeth, "I keep you safe, not the other way 'round."

Elizabeth looked over her shoulder when she heard quiet voices approaching them, "We'll talk about it later, D."

"Evening, Dr. Vaughn," a woman with short blonde hair came around the gurney, "You remember me, right?"

"Dr. Allison Cole," D nodded, "MD from Stanford, specializing in orthopedics, graduated top ten percent of your class."

"That's right," Allison smiled, "I'm going to take care of your ribs and your hand while Marie deals with the abrasions and bruises. Let's take you over to the scanner and see exactly what we're dealing with, okay?"

"Do I get a choice, Dr. Cole?" D asked petulantly.

"Nope," Allison smiled brightly, "and you can call me Ally."

"You should know, D," Marie moved around to the head of the gurney and stepped on the brake to release it, "If you make our jobs difficult this evening, I'm under orders to dope you up with enough morphine to make you think you're a glittery pink elephant."

"Carson's a jerk," D huffed, "And elephants aren't pink. Or glittery."

"Just behave yourself," Elizabeth released D's wrist to pick up the clothes from the floor. She handed the shirt and jacket to Dr. Cole, then set the belt with the holster still attached next to D's hand. D moved her fingers to rest against the glint of silver metal as Elizabeth spoke again, "You're off-duty tomorrow. If I find out you're working in your quarters again, you'll be on light-switch duty for the engineering department for a month."

"You're mean, ma'am," D pouted as she was wheeled away.

"I'm not going to get an explanation," John eyed Elizabeth cautiously, "Am I?"

"John," Elizabeth sighed, "It's…"

"Complicated," John supplied, "Yeah, I get that. But a member of my team is in the infirmary after getting into a fight with Vaughn."

"Ronon volunteered to…" Elizabeth paused, obviously searching for the right words, "…to pull D out of her own head for a while. It seems that your _friend_ decided to have a look inside D's mind without asking permission first. D's memory is full of..." Elizabeth frowned slightly, "The way she explained it to me was like having an interactive recorder inside her head at all times. She can recall with near perfect clarity every single detail about any particular moment of her life; from the exact words someone is speaking to the approximate ambient temperature of the room. She quite literally can't forget anything that's happened to her. And considering some of the things she's experienced, that type of memory is less of a blessing and more of a curse."

"Okay, that explains some of the ridiculous skills," John responded carefully, "But I would've thought that you of all people would be against such a violent response."

"And normally you would be correct," Elizabeth agreed as she glanced at Ronon, "But in this particular case, I think the violence was inevitable. I let Ronon redirect it towards someone better equipped to handle it."

"Inevitable?" John questioned.

"Complicated, John," Elizabeth reminded him, "and private."

"Eventually you're going to have to tell me why you have a bodyguard masquerading as an assistant," John drawled, "who can shoot better than ninety percent of my guys and hold her own against Ronon in a fist fight."

"Who said she was my bodyguard?" Elizabeth raised an eyebrow at him.

"No one outright said it," John shrugged, "but Vaughn's made it clear that if I upset or threaten you in anyway, I have to deal with her."

"You can probably guess what I'm going to say, Colonel," Elizabeth half-smiled.

"It's complicated?" John smirked.

"Exactly," Elizabeth nodded, "I knew you were a smart man."


	32. Hiding

Rodney walked into his lab, one hand clutching at his fifth cup of coffee for the day, the other holding a tablet that he was reading. He scowled at the equations in the report and made a mental note to yell at Hendricks at the first opportunity for his ridiculously shoddy math. He dropped the tablet onto his desk and slid into his chair then promptly squealed as jumped up again, barely managing not to spill his precious coffee down the front of his uniform.

"Jesus Christ, Red," Rodney shouted as he set the cup down on his desk, "What the hell is the matter with you?"

D took one of her headphones out, setting it on top of the tablet she held before she looked up at Rodney from where she was sitting cross-legged in the corner underneath his desk. She wore a long-sleeved black sweatshirt and slim black leggings with thick black socks. Her hair was in a thick, messy braid over one shoulder, a small black rubber band around the end.

"Did you say something?" D smiled politely.

"Did I-_ Yes I said something_," Rodney spluttered, "Are you _trying_ to put me in an early grave? You could've given me a heart attack. Is that my iPod?"

"You weren't using it," D waved the small rectangle at him, "and you have music I like on here. I can give it back if you want."

"No, it's fine. Just plug it in when you're done," Rodney scowled, "Why are you under my desk?"

"I had to adopt a policy of strategic concealment to deal with Dr. Beckett," D said seriously.

"You had to…" Rodney narrowed his eyes, "You're hiding from Carson under a desk in my lab?"

"I prefer strategic concealment," D insisted, "He keeps fussing over me and I'd rather be left alone. I escaped from my quarters while he was otherwise occupied. No one goes near your desk because all your minions are afraid of you and the military has been banned from this lab unless specifically invited. I snuck in while everyone was at lunch. I figured no one would find me here," D frowned slightly, "since you're supposed to be in the engineering lab working on the dematerializer."

"I just came back from lunch," Rodney waved a hand at her, "and that project is doing fine without me for the moment."

D raised an eyebrow at him, "Radek kicked you out again?"

"I…yes," Rodney admitted with a sigh.

"I told you to quit insulting his parentage," D smirked and went back to reading the tablet.

"Exactly how long are you planning on being underneath there?" Rodney questioned warily.

"I'm in the middle of reading Lewis Carroll's _Alice's Adventures in Wonderland_," D looked up at Rodney again, "After this is done, I plan on reading _Through the Looking Glass_ before I start on Bram Stoker and Mary Shelley."

"That's not what I asked," Rodney huffed.

"No, but it's an answer," D replied easily, "Elizabeth said if she caught me working today, I'd be on light-switch duty for a month and this is the only place I can be mostly positive no one besides you will find me."

"Who says I won't turn you in?" Rodney stuck his hands on his hips.

"Rodney," D rolled her eyes, "Don't be ridiculous."

"Why are you even hiding from Carson in the first place?" Rodney wondered.

D moved the tablet to the side, revealing the silver splint covering the last three fingers of her right hand, then leaned forward slightly into the light of the lab so Rodney could see the scabbed over cut in her bottom lip.

"I have two cracked ribs on my right side," D informed him, "three broken fingers on my right hand, bruises covering approximately seventeen percent of my body, and various abrasions, including the one on my lip."

"Are you sure you shouldn't be in the infirmary?" Rodney asked cautiously, "You look like warmed over crap."

"I've had worse," D shrugged and settled back into the corner, "and I don't like the infirmary. I'm okay here as long as my ribs don't get jarred."

"Fine, whatever. You can hide under my desk," Rodney agreed as he picked up his coffee cup again, "But you owe me one, Red."

"If you manage not to kick me for the rest of the day," D started reading again, "I'll make sure you get blue jello every day for a week."

"Lunch _and_ dinner," Rodney insisted as he sat down.

"Lunch and dinner," D nodded in agreement.

"Wait," Rodney leaned back to look under the desk at D, "Why are you more injured on your right side then your left? And who beat you up in the first place? You were fine yesterday."

"I use my left hand for sixty-seven percent of my daily activities," D responded easily, "and my right for only thirty-three percent. I try to protect my left side more than my right so I'm able to function relatively normally while injured. And Ronon was helping me yesterday evening after we got back from the planet."

"Beating you up is helping?" Rodney questioned.

"He wasn't beating me up," D spoke quietly, "He was helping me express my feelings in a manner that wouldn't cause harm to anyone who couldn't handle it."

"Have you ever considered talking to Dr. Heightmeyer?" Rodney asked uncertainly, "Kate's usually pretty good at…you know…helping people express themselves or whatever. Not that I would know from personal experience or anything. Maybe if you talked to her, you wouldn't have to hide from Carson because Ronon beat the crap out of you."

"Dr. Heightmeyer doesn't have high enough security clearance to know about me," D stuck the second headphone back in her ear, "People are coming back from lunch. Try to pretend I'm not here."

"How do you…?" Rodney trailed off and looked over to the door as several scientists came in, having a quiet, intense discussion. He looked back down at D, scowling at the small smile that was playing around her mouth.

"Showoff," Rodney huffed.

_*AM*AM*AM*AM*AM*AM*AM*_

"You're here," Rodney looked up from his tablet to stare at D curiously.

"Yes," D checked the large watch on her wrist, "This is when I'm scheduled to be here, isn't it?"

"Well, yes, but," Rodney shifted on his feet, "I figured since you were, you know, still healing and whatnot that you weren't going to show up."

"It's not like I'm lifting heavy objects or running laps, Rodney," D said easily, "If you made other plans, I'll go back to my reports."

"I was going to do it myself and have Radek monitor," Rodney moved away from the control chair, "but this is better. Sit, sit. You haven't interacted with the chair before, have you?"

D turned to sit on the edge of the chair, removing the splint still partially covering her right hand as she spoke, "Basic initializing, like the rest of the ATA positives. Nothing complex."

"Should you be taking this off?" Rodney questioned as D handed him the splint.

"I need to be able to manipulate the gel pads. I won't tell Carson if you don't," D settled back in the chair and it lit up blue as it reclined, "We're just rerouting some of the secondary power systems, correct?"

"It's a bit more complex than that, but you should be able to do it with my directions," Rodney set the splint down next to the chair and moved over to the large monitor to plug in his tablet, "We'll go through some relatively simple commands first, just to make sure you know what you're doing before we move into the-" Rodney cut himself off abruptly as a the monitor started flashing different diagrams, "What are you doing?"

"I told her I wanted to see all the power conduits," D answered absently, "She's talking me through the different power relays."

"Told _her_?" Rodney whirled around to look at D, her head tilted back and eyes closed, "_She's _talkingyouthrough?"

"Yes," D cracked open one eye, "Wait, is this another thing that no one talks about?"

"What thing?" Rodney questioned, "You anthropomorphizing the City? Or the fact that the only person to figure out the chair faster than you was Sheppard?"

"I'm not anthropomorphizing, Dr. McKay," D closed her eyes again with a short sigh, "Apparently, Atlantis has a fairly elaborate AI system in place. The grammar and syntax the system uses are somewhat feminine, which is why I used 'her' and 'she' to refer to the City. I've never interacted this closely with the City's operating system before…it's really quite fascinating. It feels like there's pieces missing though. Maybe something to do with the fact that we only have one ZPM instead of a full compliment."

Rodney's hand flew to his earpiece, "Colonel Sheppard, Dr. Beckett, Dr. Weir, I need you to come to the control room immediately."

D's eyes flew open and she sat up in the chair, but Rodney pointed an angry finger at her before she could stand.

"Don't you move," Rodney ordered.

"Should I not have said anything?" D asked quietly, "I didn't mean to-"

"You're not in trouble," Rodney flapped his hand at her, "I just need you here to find out if it's just you or if Sheppard and Beckett know about this AI thing and just completely neglected to tell me about it. In which case…"

"You'll yell at three people who have the ability to make your life and mine extremely difficult," D grumbled as she reclined in the chair again, "_Ar fi trebuit să jucat prost și ținut gura mea închisă_." [Romanian: I should have played dumb and kept my mouth shut.]

"What?" Rodney narrowed his eyes, "What did you say?"

"I said if I get yelled at by Carson," D scowled at him, "the jello deal is off."

"You can't renege on our agreement," Rodney protested, "You said if I didn't accidently kick you or give you up, I'd get my blue jello for a week. It's only been three days."

"You should have thought of that before you called Dr. Beckett," D replied evenly, "Radek's on his way. If you don't want him here for this, which given the ramifications of the City having an AI, you probably don't want that information to be public knowledge just yet, you'd better call him and tell him you don't need him."

"One day you're going to tell me how you do that," Rodney rolled his eyes as he tapped his earpiece again, "Zelenka, this is McKay."

"_Yes, Rodney_," Radek's patient voice came over the radio, "_I am on my way to the chair room now. I will not be late_."

"Actually, Dr. Vaughn showed up," Rodney explained quickly, "So you can go do whatever useless thing you had planned for today."

"_What I do is not useless_, _Dr. McKay_," Radek insisted, "_I was supposed to work on the Wraith dematerializer this afternoon_. _We are very close to figuring out how it operates_."

"There you go then," Rodney huffed, "Go work on that. There's no need for you to come here. No reason for both to be in one place."

"_You called Dr. Weir, Dr. Beckett, and Colonel Sheppard to the chair room_," Radek spoke evenly, "_If there is a problem, I should be there to help_."

D tapped her radio, "_Není problem_, Radek. Rodney _je zrovna opět whiny dítě. On si myslí, že mě ostatní budou držet na uzdě_." [Czech: There's no problem, Radek. Rodney is just being a whiny child again. He thinks the others will keep me in line.]

"_On není tak chytrý, jak on tvrdí, pokud si myslí, že je to Pravda_," Radek laughed, "_Hodně štěstí_, Dr. Vaughn." [Czech: He is not nearly as smart as he says if he thinks that is true.] [Czech: Good luck.]

"_Děkuji_, Dr. Zelenka," D tapped her earpiece off and shook her head at Rodney as he did the same, "Remind me to never tell you a secret, McKay. Your deception skills are severely lacking." [Czech: Thank you.]

"Deception skills?" Rodney frowned at D, "Who even talks like that? And what did you say to Zelenka?"

"I told him you were being a whiny child," D smirked, "and that you called the others as reinforcements to deal with me."

"And he believed you?" Rodney huffed.

"Not only believed me," D agreed, "but wished me luck."

"I do _not _whine," Rodney protested.

"Yes, you do," D looked over as Elizabeth and Carson came into the room, "Afternoon, ma'am, Dr. Beckett."

"What's the problem, Dr. McKay?" Elizabeth asked cautiously.

"Why does everyone assume there's a problem?" Rodney frowned.

"It's not necessarily a problem, ma'am," D responded, "Although it has the potential to turn into one. It's probably best if we wait for Colonel Sheppard. He should be here soon."

"While I'm here," Carson moved over to pick up D's right hand, "and you're not hiding from me, let's take a look and see how you're healing."

D glared at Rodney while Carson started gently feeling the bruises on her right hand.

"That doesn't count," Rodney insisted, "He didn't technically yell. I still get my jello."

"Jello?" Elizabeth wondered, "What are you talking about?"

"I assume it has something to do with the fact," Carson laid D's hand down and gestured for her to unzip her uniform jacket, "that Dr. Vaughn has been hiding from me. No one on the medical staff has seen her since she disappeared from her quarters three days ago. Sounds like she's been buying Rodney's silence with jello."

"Deal's definitely off, McKay," D rested her head against the back of the chair as Carson felt along the right side of her ribs, "They're healing fine, Dr. Beckett. I haven't had any problems."

"All right, lass," Carson patted her shoulder, "Have you at least been taking the pain killers?"

"I've been making sure she's taking them on time," Elizabeth informed him, "She knows better than to hide from me."

"Just be careful using that hand," Carson bent to pick up the splint, dropping it into D's lap, "and that goes back on as soon as you're done."

"Yes, Carson," D sighed.

"What did I miss?" John drawled as he came into the room.

"You!" Rodney pointed an angry finger at him, "Why didn't you tell me?"


	33. Discovery

"Tell you what, McKay?" John asked curiously.

"About-" Rodney started.

"Rodney," D interrupted quietly, "Perhaps it would be better if you approached this in a more scientific manner. It's entirely possible that Sheppard has no idea what you're talking about."

"I _don't_ know what he's talking about," John insisted.

"I believe you have at least a general idea of why he called you here," D raised an eyebrow as she stood, "But I still think it would be better to do this methodically. Don't you agree, Dr. McKay?"

"I suppose it's better to keep them from getting influenced by your experiences," Rodney huffed, "Sit in the chair, Carson."

"Manners, Rodney," D reminded him lightly, "Dr. Beckett, would you take a seat please?"

"I'm not sure that's a good idea," Carson hesitated, "I could cause all sorts of-"

"Carson, sit down," Rodney ordered, "Just don't think about anything important."

"Thank you, Rodney," Carson scowled at him as he sat in the chair, "That's very helpful."

"What exactly are we trying to find out here?" Elizabeth wondered, "And how exactly is it going to be a problem?"

"A good question," Carson reclined in the chair.

"Do you remember that conversation we had a couple days after I arrived here, Carson?" D asked calmly, "The one about all the ATA positives that everyone knows, but no one talks about?"

"Aye, I remember," Carson agreed warily, "Elizabeth knows as well. I told her about it during the first year."

"Are you talking about the way all the gene-users experience different Ancient tech with different senses?" Elizabeth questioned.

"Yes, ma'am," D nodded, "Up until now, that interaction has been minimal, only basic instructions to things like lights and showers and partially identifying equipment."

"Up until now?" Elizabeth asked curiously.

"This is the part that could become problematic," D turned to Rodney, "If I talk him through, can you record the data?"

"Yes, yes, of course," Rodney waved a hand at her as he turned back to the large monitor, "But I'll need the data from you and Sheppard as well to compare."

"Okay, Carson," D put the fingers of her left hand over the pulse on his right wrist, "Close your eyes and relax."

Carson looked down at her hand nervously, "You're not going to…do anything risky, are you lass?"

"I'm going to monitor your pulse," D stiffened and immediately moved her hand to hover above his arm, "Nothing more. If you'd prefer I not touch you, I can do so visually."

"No, it's fine, dear," Carson closed his eyes as the chair lit up blue, "I just wanted to make sure you weren't pushing yourself too hard while you're still healing."

D relaxed slightly, kneeling gracefully next to Carson as she pressed her fingers against his pulse again.

"Okay," Carson's voice was slightly strained, "What am I supposed to be doing?"

"Take a deep breath. Relax," D commanded softly, "You said you experience Ancient tech through smell, correct?"

"Yes, that's right," Carson smiled as the tension drained from his voice.

"I'd assume you interact with the Ancient scanner the most," D's voice was low and melodic now, "Think about how that smells to you. Remember the way that particular sensation feels in your mind."

"Got it," Carson replied calmly.

"Now, concentrating on that feeling," D looked over to Rodney, "Think about Rodney. What do you smell now?"

"Wait a minute," Rodney protested, starting to turn back around.

"Focus on the data, Rodney," D ordered as she looked back at Carson, "Concentrate on that feeling in your mind, Carson. What do you smell when you think of Rodney?"

A curious, focused look came across Carson's face as he spoke uncertainly, "I smell…dry-erase markers on a board and…strong, black coffee. He smells like…intelligence and…impatience."

"Good," D smiled brightly at Carson before she looked to John, "Now think of Sheppard."

"Salted air rushing past my face," Carson's voice became more confident, "and cordite – gunpowder, like the gun range after practice. Flying over the ocean and protection."

"And me?" D asked steadily.

"Tainted copper feathers," Carson swallowed heavily but his voice stayed firm, "and the cold steel of a sharp blade. Blood-soaked wings and death."

"Now for something a little more difficult," D looked over her shoulder to Elizabeth, "What do you smell when you think of Elizabeth?"

"Elizabeth doesn't have the…" Carson frowned slightly then a wide smile bloomed across his face, "Oh. I smell old books and…my mother's fresh baked biscuits. She smells like knowledge and comfort."

"You're doing wonderfully, Carson," D continued in the lyrical tone, "Now I want you to concentrate solely on the City. Think about Atlantis and tell me what you feel."

"I feel…" Carson paused for a moment, "I smell sea-salt, water, and smoke from the fire in my grandmother's old wood stove. Atlantis feels like the ocean and…_home_."

"Think about that feeling of home," D directed gently, "and ask to see a map of the secondary water filtration systems."

A holographic projection of a complex set of pipes and reservoirs appeared above Carson.

"What is that?" Carson wondered quietly, his tone gleeful when he spoke again, "Oh. _Oh_! She's alive. Amazing! She can…This is…"

"Not just me then," D released Carson's arm and stood, moving quickly over to Rodney's side to look at the information flying across the screen.

"What just happened?" Elizabeth questioned.

"The City is run at least in part by a functioning AI program. I guided Carson through the steps of a deeper connection with the City's systems," D turned back around and saw the careful bland expression on John's face. She narrowed her eyes at him, "You did know about her, Colonel."

"You _knew_?" Rodney spun away from the screen to glare at him harshly, "And you didn't tell me about it? Do you have any idea the implications of a functioning AI? This is-"

"A problem," John interrupted evenly, "If the IOA finds out."

Elizabeth looked between John's indifferent face and the myriad of emotions warring for control of Rodney's features. Her gaze shifted to D, then flicked upwards towards the camera on the wall.

D reached up to tap her earpiece twice, "Lt. Kagan, this is Dr. Vaughn."

"_This is Kagan_," the response was swift.

"It seems like the security camera in the chair room is malfunctioning," D said smoothly, "It has been for at least fifteen minutes."

"_It has_?" Kagan responded carefully, "_I think I can have some men down there to fix it in…what, an hour_?"

"Do you think the video from that time will be retrievable?" D asked evenly.

"_No, ma'am_," Kagan answered easily, "_It's a shame_._ An hour and fifteen minutes of video just vanished_."

"A tragedy. Have a good day, Lieutenant," D tapped off her radio and nodded at Elizabeth.

"Did you just convince one of my men to erase security footage, Dr. Vaughn?" John questioned.

"At my request," Elizabeth crossed her arms across her chest, "Yes, she did."

"Should I stay here?" Carson opened his eyes to look around at the tense people in the room.

"No, get up," Rodney flapped a hand at him, "I need Red and Sheppard to sit in the chair so I can record the data from their interactions too. This is a huge discovery."

"One that you won't be able to share," Elizabeth spoke calmly as Carson stood, "Not for a while anyway."

"What?" Rodney questioned, "Why not? An artificial intelligence program that's still functioning after ten thousand years is-"

"I'll go next," D interrupted with a quick look at Elizabeth, sitting in the chair as it automatically reclined, "I might be able to provide more details. If you would, Carson, my pulse should stay within ten beats of my normal resting heart rate."

"Fine, you can go next…again, whatever," Rodney started tapping on his tablet as he turned back to the monitor, "But no holding back. I need every little detail of what you're experiencing. And eventually, someone's going to have to record the data when I sit in the chair."

"Yes, Rodney," Carson rolled his eyes as he leaned over to press his fingers to D's left wrist.

Elizabeth motioned with her chin to the other side of the room and John silently followed her over.

"How long have you known about this, Colonel?" Elizabeth asked calmly.

"Since I sat down in the chair in Antarctica," John shoved his hands in his pockets, "I felt the AI there."

"I understand you not telling Rodney," Elizabeth's jaw tightened, "But this is something I needed to know, John. The ramifications of Atlantis having a working AI…"

"I know," John admitted, "But it wasn't really working here in the City until we plugged the ZPM in. I don't even think she's fully functional now."

"Explain," Elizabeth ordered.

"There's a certain…" John frowned slightly as he trailed off, "It's not like talking to a person. I mean, I can interact with the City, ask her questions, but she responds with sort of vague pictures or sounds instead of words."

"She?" Elizabeth raised an eyebrow, "Three of you referred to the City in the feminine."

"Yeah," John shrugged awkwardly, "It-_she_…it's hard to explain."

Elizabeth rubbed a hand over her forehead, "This is going to be another headache I don't need."

"McKay's not going to let this go," John looked back to where Rodney was cheerfully typing away on his tablet as D spoke quietly.

"He's not," Elizabeth agreed, "and he shouldn't have to. But unfortunately, if the IOA gets a hold of this information…"

"They'll order Rodney to dismantle her," John winced, "Figure out how she works, how to control her or remove her program from the City's systems."

"At the very least," Elizabeth nodded, "I'd rather not see that happen. She's survived this long, it'd be a shame if we were the ones to destroy Atlantis."

"What do you want to do then?" John asked cautiously.

"I'll have D contact General O'Neill, let him know what's going on so he can prepare. She'll be able to get him a message without anyone knowing," Elizabeth decided, "He's got the gene as well, so he might be more understanding than the IOA. We're going to have to keep this from them as long as possible."

"And how do you suggest we do that?" John drawled.

"I'd suggest, Colonel," Elizabeth said calmly, "that we keep this between the six of us as long as we possibly can."

"And when it eventually gets out?" John questioned.

"Sheppard," Rodney exclaimed excitedly, "It's your turn. Get over here and sit down."

"We'll have to deal with that when the time comes," Elizabeth said quietly.

"Sheppard!" Rodney motioned frantically towards the chair.

"Keep your pants on, Rodney," John moved over to sit in the vacated seat.

"I don't suppose you need me to talk you through," D eyed Sheppard as the chair lit up under him.

"Nope," John leaned back and closed his eyes, "What do you need to know, McKay?"

"Carson smells things and Red hears things," Rodney consulted his tablet briefly, "What sense do you use for Ancient tech?"

"Is that really relevant?" John questioned.

"Everything is relevant, Colonel," Rodney insisted, "I need every single bit of information I can get my hands on. How else am I supposed to compare and contrast everyone's experiences?"

"He sees things," D moved over to stand by Rodney again, studying the information on the large monitor.

"I didn't ask you," Rodney frowned at her, then looked back at John, "Is that true?"

"Yes," John opened his eyes to look at Rodney and D curiously, "and when I'm in the chair I can hear things too."

"How do you _do _that?" Rodney stared at D, his mouth hanging open.

"I'd like to know the answer to that too," John drawled.

"I've been talking to all the ATA positives," D answered absently as she took the tablet from Rodney, "about their experiences with the City since I found out about the senses. The most common senses are smell and taste, with approximately forty-two and thirty-six percent respectively. The next common is touch with nineteen percent. Hearing accounts for about two percent, Major Lorne and myself, though from what Evan's told me, the things I hear are slightly more complex. However, that could be due to the fact that my senses are over-developed when compared to the average person's. The remaining one percent was unaccounted for until recently, when I finally got a chance to observe Colonel Sheppard interacting with the City," D finally looked over to John as she handed the tablet back to Rodney, "Your pupils dilate at seemingly random intervals, focusing on sections of the City when you think no one is paying attention, then casually bringing up things that need to be repaired the next day. Whenever you need to find someone, you concentrate on a blank section of the City's walls. When you're in the control room, you look at the gate approximately one point five seconds _before_ an incoming wormhole. And that's not even taking into account what happens when you're flying a jumper."

"What happens when he flies a jumper?" Elizabeth asked, desperately trying to hold back her smile as John shifted nervously in the chair.

"_Je suppose que vous avez personnellement vu ce regard particulier avant, _Elizabeth," D smirked. [French: I would imagine you have personally seen that particular look before.]

"Never mind," Elizabeth flushed pink.

"What did she say?" Carson asked curiously.

"Nothing of relevance," D shook her head, "My point was: Colonel Sheppard accounts for the remaining percentage of the ATA population's senses by using sight to interact with the City."

"Does Sheppard count twice since he can hear things too?" Rodney questioned, "At least when sitting in the chair."

"What people experience while sitting in the chair constitutes an entirely different study, Dr. McKay," D insisted, "Are you going to start recording data or just keep looking at me like I'm a particularly complex physics equation?"

"Complex physics equations I understand," Rodney rolled his eyes, "You, I don't get. All right, Sheppard, do your thing. I need you to describe every detail that you see and hear while you're interacting with the AI."

"Dr. Beckett," D gestured to John's wrist, "Same thing, within ten beats of his resting heart rate."

Elizabeth crooked a finger at D as John and Rodney started arguing.

D joined Elizabeth across the room, ducking her head as she spoke quietly, "I apologize, ma'am. I should've known better than to say something in front of Dr. McKay. I was distracted by my interaction with the City and failed to anticipate his reaction."

"It's too late to worry about that now," Elizabeth sighed, "We need to focus on containing this and potential fall-out should the wrong people find out."

"Lt. Kagan is on duty in the security office this shift. He has the gene and he owes me a favor," D said, "He won't say anything about the missing footage. You might want to consider contacting Jack. He's in a position to do more damage control than we are at the moment, and considering the strength of his gene and the time he spent in the Antarctic chair, it's highly unlikely he hasn't dealt with the AI there."

"That's what I was thinking," Elizabeth agreed easily, "I know the two of you have been in contact since you got here. Is it possible for you to get a private message to him through back-channels?"

"Yes, ma'am," D nodded, "That won't be an issue. I've some ideas on what do to when this eventually becomes public as well. But I think the biggest problem we're going to have is-"

"Convincing Rodney to keep this quiet," Elizabeth looked over to where Rodney was now arguing with Carson over the top of his tablet.

"He's right, you know," D followed Elizabeth's gaze, "This is a _major_ discovery within the scientific community. The prospect of being acknowledged as the person who figured this out, even if it stayed within the SGC, is incredibly tempting for someone who craves recognition."

"Any suggestions?" Elizabeth asked warily.

"Someone whose opinions he respects needs to sit him down," D replied carefully, "and impress upon him the consequences should he choose to make this particular discovery public. And he needs to experience the AI for himself."

"Someone?" Elizabeth raised an eyebrow.

"Two someones in this particular instance," D clarified, "Colonel Sheppard and yourself. It'd be better if you spoke to him at the same time. And sooner rather than later."

"In that case," Elizabeth spoke calmly, "I'd like to ask a favor before our hour is up here."

"I'll distract Dr. Beckett so the three of you can have your conversation, ma'am," D sighed as she inclined her head, "I'm sure if I let him fuss over my injuries again, he'll be sufficiently occupied."

"Thank you, Dr. Vaughn," Elizabeth smiled wryly, "Your tremendous sacrifice will be noted."


	34. Mistakes

"You have improved greatly, Elizabeth," Teyla smiled as Elizabeth used a small towel to dry the sweat off her face and upper body, "I believe we can begin more advanced training next week."

"Thank you again for all your help the last couple weeks, Teyla," D pulled a gray sweatshirt over her tight black tank top, "I was worried I'd have Carson hovering over me for the next month."

"We could've put the self-defense on hold," Elizabeth looped the towel around her neck, "While you were healing."

"I told you that wasn't necessary," D shook her head, "A few minor fractures never stopped me from training before."

"It's going to now," Elizabeth slipped her earpiece back on, "Or-"

"You'll sic Dr. Beckett on me," D sighed as she slipped her own radio on, "Yes, ma'am."

"I am happy to help," Teyla laughed warmly, "If only so D can avoid the confrontations with Carson that she fears so much."

"I don't _fear_ anything," D protested as the three of them left the small gym, "I just prefer not to be poked and prodded more than absolutely necessary. Carson has a tendency to fuss over things that really aren't that serious."

"I think the two of you have very different ideas of what 'serious' means," Elizabeth said dryly.

"Different backgrounds I suppose," D shrugged, "Are you coming to breakfast with us, Teyla?"

"I would be happy to join you," Teyla agreed, "I have some time before I am to meet with Matie. He is accompanying Halling and Sgt. Stackhouse's team off-world this afternoon. Matie expressed an interest in seeing some of the marketplaces my people often visit."

"I saw that on the schedule," D smiled, "I'm glad the Pulooy have been getting along so well with the Athosians."

"And their crops seem to be growing well on the mainland," Elizabeth added, "Otelia tells me that her people are quite happy here."

"Indeed. We have all benefitted greatly from their presence," Teyla paused as she drew in a short breath, "Perhaps we should shower and change before we head to the mess hall."

"I second that," Elizabeth scrunched up her nose, "I smell like my high school locker room."

"Sweat is good for you, Elizabeth," D insisted, "If you aren't sweating during training, Teyla and I are doing something wrong."

"And the bruises on my ass?" Elizabeth rolled her eyes, "I suppose those are good for me too."

"Those mean you're making progress," D grinned.

"There are not nearly as many as when we began," Teyla nodded as they stepped into the transporter, "You are making fewer mistakes each session."

"Thanks," Elizabeth smiled as she tapped the panel behind her, "I think."

_*AM*AM*AM*AM*AM*AM*AM*_

"Going off-world?" John strolled up to Zelenka as the shorter man checked the last of his equipment.

"M7G-677," Zelenka sulked.

"That's the planet with all the kids, right?" John wondered.

"They're having trouble with their EM field generator," Zelenka grumbled, "and McKay has decided that I am the most capable person in all of Atlantis to fix it."

"Hey, don't worry," John grinned, "They're a great group of kids. You're gonna love 'em."

"My sister has a child," Zelenka frowned up at him, "He breaks things. He throws things. He smears things onto furniture."

"Colonel Sheppard! I need you up in the control room," Rodney looked down from the balcony above them, "Oh, you still here?"

"We're just leaving," Zelenka scowled furiously at Rodney.

"Hmm. Well, uh, do say 'hi' to the kids for me," Rodney clicked his tongue and gave Zelenka a quick thumbs up.

John's grin widened as he gave Zelenka another thumbs up before he went up the stairs. He heard Zelenka mumbling in quiet, angry Czech behind him. John came into the control room to see Elizabeth, Ronon, D, and Rodney standing around the large flat screen monitor that showed the long-range sensors.

"Two Wraith cruisers," Rodney gestured to the screen as John came to stand next to Ronon.

"How far away are they?" Elizabeth questioned.

"A day, maybe a day and a half," Rodney answered easily, "I've been tracking them for some time now, but, uh, the good news is it doesn't look like they're heading this way."

"Just passing through the neighborhood?" John drawled.

"Yeah, it looks that way. But I just discovered something rather curious," Rodney tapped the screen and the image zoomed closer on the two red ships.

"You didn't discover it, Rodney," D rolled her eyes, "Sgt. Campbell was monitoring the sensors and pointed it out to you. You interpreted the data."

"Whatever, semantics," Rodney waved a hand at the screen, "Short but intense energy bursts passing between them."

"They're fighting each other?" Ronon asked cautiously.

"Hmm. In my, uh, _expert_ opinion," Rodney turned to glare at D haughtily, "yes."

"That's good news," John stated.

"Certainly is," Elizabeth agreed, "If there's any change in course at all, let me know."

"I'll have Chuck patch the sensors to my tablet," Rodney nodded, "so I can keep an eye on them without having to stay here."

"Just make sure you're back in time for the dial-out to Earth," Elizabeth ordered easily. She turned to D, "Dr. Vaughn, I believe we're still missing a few reports and at least three requisition forms haven't been turned in."

"I'll contact the appropriate people, ma'am," D inclined her head, "Remind them."

"Nicely, D," Elizabeth ordered.

"I'm always nice, Elizabeth," D protested.

"Tell that to my ass," Elizabeth mumbled as she walked past, "I'll be in my office."

D snorted before she turned to look up at Ronon, "Want to come with me to remind the scientists they have reports to finish? She didn't say anything about you having to be nice."

"Sure," Ronon grinned.

_*AM*AM*AM*AM*AM*AM*AM*_

"I just gave Rodney the last of the files for the status report, ma'am," D came into Elizabeth's office, "He's starting the data compression now."

"Good," Elizabeth stood from her desk, "I included a short report about the infighting that appears to have started among the Wraith. Hopefully, they'll be too busy with each other to worry about the rest of the galaxy for a while."

"It's possible," D shrugged as Elizabeth came out from behind her desk, "But eventually someone's going to win. Did Teyla stop by to talk to you before she and Dr. Beckett left?"

"She did," Elizabeth agreed sadly, "I hope it's nothing too serious. Charin is a sweet woman and I know Teyla's very close to her."

"Elizabeth, get out here!" Rodney's loud, worried voice echoed from the control room.

Elizabeth hurried across the short walkway, D following closely behind. Elizabeth stopped in front of the DHD console, but D moved to stand behind Rodney, looking over his shoulder at the laptop in front of him.

"Is this transmission authentic, Dr. McKay?" D asked evenly.

"Yes," Rodney paled slightly, "Relayed from the SGC via the _Daedalus_ just now."

"What?" Elizabeth questioned, "What's the problem?"

"There's a b-" Rodney stopped abruptly when D clamped a hand onto his shoulder.

"Ma'am, I think you should read it for yourself," D met Elizabeth's eyes as she released Rodney and stepped to the side to make room for Elizabeth.

Elizabeth walked around the console and leaned down to read the laptop screen. As she straightened again, she turned to D.

"I see," Elizabeth narrowed her eyes.

"Ma'am," D glanced around the busy control room.

"In my office," Elizabeth gestured, "McKay, get Sheppard up here please. And Ronon."

"Yeah," Rodney reached up to tap his earpiece as D followed Elizabeth into her office.

The glass door slid shut behind D and she moved to the center of the room, clasping her hands behind her back as she stood rigidly at attention in front of Elizabeth.

"Ask," D said simply.

"Do I need to?" Elizabeth questioned evenly.

"You want to," D spoke quietly, "Truth and trust, ma'am. I promised to answer all your questions honestly. Ask."

Elizabeth straightened, "Did you plant a bomb somewhere in Atlantis, Dr. Vaughn?"

"No, ma'am, I did not," D answered steadily.

"Do you know who did?" Elizabeth asked firmly.

"Not yet, ma'am, but I will," D lifted her chin slightly.

"All right," Elizabeth nodded once, "I believe you."

"With respect, ma'am," D continued cautiously, "You haven't asked the question that you really want to the answer to."

"I have all the answers I need," Elizabeth insisted.

"But not all the ones you want, ma'am," D countered softly, "Ask."

"Is this our fault?" Elizabeth's voice was barely loud enough to be heard, "Is the City in danger because you didn't kill me? Because we both ran away to Atlantis? Are we responsible for putting the people here in danger?"

"Yes, ma'am," D stepped forward to take both Elizabeth's wrists in a soft grip, "I think the Trust might have finally decided that destroying Atlantis, the gateway to Earth, in order to stop the Wraith from getting to the Milky Way is their only option. You've managed thwart them at every turn. You've enough influence to keep people you trust in key positions. You've enough moral fortitude to never bow to someone else's demands of greed. You're enough compassion to give a killer, a monster by all rights doesn't deserve it, a second chance. I denied them their best chance of getting a hold of Atlantis and her technology, so they've decided if they can't have it, no one will. I denied them the prospect of having their people in key positions of the SGC. But there's an upside to all this as well."

"Really?" Elizabeth tipped her head down, laughing bitterly, "Because it doesn't sound like it."

D leaned forward, pressing her forehead to Elizabeth's gently, "The upside is; all those qualities that make the Trust hate you, make them want you dead, are the exact same qualities that make everyone here so loyal to you. So, yes, it's our fault, but not for the reasons you think. It's your fault because you are too good a person and they weren't able to corrupt you like they have so many others. It's _my_ fault because I failed my mission and ran away to hide. That's the difference between the two of us."

"I'm pretty sure you're just trying to reassure me," Elizabeth closed her eyes, "You make me sound so perfect."

"You're also a stubborn," D continued easily, "demanding, workaholic who cares more for everyone else around her than she does her own well-being. No one is perfect, Elizabeth. Not even you. Have faith in those around you and let us help you figure this out."

"Us?" Elizabeth opened her eyes again, leaning back to meet D's determined gaze, "Or you?"

"I _will_ figure this out, ma'am," D squeezed Elizabeth's wrists gently before releasing her, "They just made their second mistake."

"Second mistake?" Elizabeth questioned.

"Yes, ma'am," a predatory smile spread across D's face, "Their first mistake was assigning your termination order to me and thinking I wouldn't question the simplicity of the mission. The second mistake was being impatient enough that they _actually _thought blowing up Atlantis was a good idea."

"Are you enjoying this, Dr. Vaughn?" Elizabeth raised an eyebrow.

"Oh, yes, ma'am," D's smile didn't dim in the slightest, "We're playing by my rules now. I may not be able to understand the intricacies of negotiating for grain or grasp the concept of fun by social interaction, but this…this is a hunt and I am very, _very_ good at hunting people, Elizabeth."

"I want the person responsible alive for questioning," Elizabeth spoke evenly, "and relatively unharmed. I want you to bring them to me when you find them, not take matters into your own hands. Is there any chance you would accept help with your..._hunt_?"

"There are only four people in Atlantis I am one hundred percent positive are not currently involved with the Trust, ma'am," D looked over her shoulder to see John, Rodney, and approaching Elizabeth's office, "Ronon, Teyla, you, and me. I work best alone."

"You'll have to learn to trust sometime," Elizabeth replied quietly as the glass door slid open.

"Are we interrupting something?" John looked between the two women.

"No," Elizabeth shook her head, "Did Rodney fill you in?"

"I got the highlights," John nodded, "The Trust planted a bomb in the City."

"McKay," D held out her left hand, "I need the marker in your pocket, please."

"What?" Rodney took a small step back, "How did you…?"

D stepped forward, ignoring his squeak of protest as she reached into his pants pocket to withdraw the black dry-erase marker. She rolled one of the chairs over to the furthest glass window before she stepped onto the chair and uncapped the marker.

"Elizabeth, I'm going to borrow your windows for a while," D spoke absently as she began to write symbols at the top right corner, "_Je vais le nettoyer quand je suis fait_." [French: I'll clean it up when I'm done.]

"_Bonne chasse_, D," Elizabeth looked over to Rodney, who was staring up at D oddly, "Dr. McKay." [French: Happy hunting.]

"Yes?" Rodney looked back to Elizabeth, "Oh, right. We need to disconnect the ZedPM and switch to back-up naquadah generators to prevent any possible dialing of the gate to Earth."

"I agree," Elizabeth moved back around behind her desk to sit down, "In fact, as of this moment, all gate activity should be suspended. How many off-world teams do we have out there?"

"Just Zelenka and his team on M7G-677," Rodney answered quickly.

"Well, unfortunately he's gonna have to sit tight until we sort this thing out," Elizabeth said.

"Stuck with all those kids," John smirked as he sat in the remaining chair in front of the desk.

"Is the Daedalus still in range to relay a data transmission back to SGC?" Elizabeth questioned.

"Yes," Rodney consulted his tablet briefly, "They are, uh, holding a position that keeps them in range of both Earth and us."

"Okay, good," Elizabeth nodded, "Send a message saying we received their warning and aborted the dialing."

"Ask them if they can give us a little more than just 'there's a bomb in Atlantis'," John added.

D spoke in a quiet language that Elizabeth couldn't quite identify as she moved the chair to the side, stepping off without pausing in her writing on the glass.

"Maybe the Trust thinks the only way to ensure the Wraith don't get to the Milky Way," Elizabeth suggested, "is to blow up Atlantis."

"Well, it's drastic but effective," Rodney agreed easily.

"What's worse is the Trust operative who planted the bomb probably did so under orders from the Goa'uld," Elizabeth stated evenly.

"What?" Rodney exclaimed.

"When did the Goa'uld get involved in this?" John questioned.

"What's a Goa'uld?" Ronon asked curiously.

"It's a slimy, snake-like alien creature," John explained, "burrows into people's heads and takes control of their bodies."

"That doesn't sound pleasant," Ronon replied.

"It isn't," John crossed his arms over his chest, "I've read enough SG mission reports to know I don't want anything to do with them."

"I want you to organize some teams to do a search of the city," Elizabeth ordered, "Start with obvious sabotage points, power distribution centers…"

"I'll check primary and secondary systems for any anomalous energy readings that might indicate the presence of an explosive device," Rodney offered.

"_Il est peu probable qu'il y est une véritable bombe_," D stepped up on the chair again as she moved it to the next window, the first one filled now completely with symbols and numbers, "_Mais je voudrais encore une copie de ces données_." [French: It's unlikely there is an actual bomb.] [French: But I'd still like a copy of that data.]

"How long is she going to go 'A Beautiful Mind' all over your office?" Rodney gestured toward D.

"Until she finds what she's looking for," Elizabeth responded carefully, "Copy all your data to Dr. Vaughn, please."

"Cadman can assist you," John looked up at Rodney, "She's a bomb expert."

"She is?" Rodney shifted uncomfortably.

"She's one of the best," John smirked, "She'll be a big help."

"Good," Elizabeth ignored Rodney's grimace, "Ask Colonel Caldwell to return to Atlantis to assist with the investigation."

"Whoa-whoa-whoa-whoa-whoa-whoa-whoa," Rodney protested, "If the Daedalus returns here, then you're effectively cutting off our communication with Earth."

"Yes, I understand that," Elizabeth agreed, "but if the person who planted the bomb is on board, we're going to need to question them here – have them reveal the location of the bomb and how to dismantle it. All right, let's get moving."


End file.
